


In Hope

by LittlePine



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Also comedy, Angst, Cabin Fic, Fluff, GASP, Horror, M/M, Pining, Post-Canon Fix-It, Romance, Werewolf Richie Tozier, also presenting..., essentially a romantic comedy that starts off with horror, it's impossible to write these dorks without comedy, like it 2!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:01:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28438818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittlePine/pseuds/LittlePine
Summary: Richie is haunted by a terrifying creature he saw in the deadlights. Eddie offers to help.Feelings old and new arise as the two spend a month in a cabin in the woods.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 16
Kudos: 40





	1. New Moon

_Richie Runs._

_He runs as fast as he can._

_Heart pounding, harder than he ever felt it, legs moving faster than he dreamed his lanky, useless legs ever could, his breath heavy and visible in the cold. So, so cold. His lungs are freezing._

_He doesn’t have time to dodge the branches and twigs scraping his cheeks and cutting his arms, or pay attention his thin, mud drenched socks stuffed inside his flimsy fabric sneakers, he can't see too well- his broken glasses just barely holding on._  
_His ears-tips are red with cold and he can’t hear anything but his own panting, racing heartbeat, and his heavy legs dragging in the snow._

_He isn’t sure what is running after him, it was barely visible through the cracks of his glasses. But he knows it's big, he knows it's evil. He knows it’s getting closer._

_Richie finally leans against a broken, thick, bare tree trunk, exhausted. He can’t do this for long, and he needs to find somewhere to hide, fast. But everything around him is so pale, white with fresh snowfall, almost pristine as he himself sticks out like a big, hairy sore thumb._  
_“Fuck.” he whispers out and immidietly regrets it. He hears a deep growl behind the tree and slaps a palm to cover his mouth._

_He shakes and shuts his eyes tightly. Hearing loud, slow steps, and the increasing rumble of growling. Maybe if he doesn’t move it’ll go away. Maybe if he stops breathing it’ll grow exasperated and leave._

_In the darkness of his shut eyes, he listens. The sound of crunching snow had stopped, breathing ceased as well._

_Richie hesitates and opens his eyes slowly._

_In front of Richie, above, a huge, furry black beast stares right at him in bloody red eyes and exposed, razor sharp teeth. It breathes quickly, angrily, growling and foaming. The more it stares, the redder its eyes become. Its mouth is stretched to a sickening, grotesque grin._

_Richie is frozen in complete terror. Blood icy in his veins. He wants to run but can’t. He wants to cry but his eyes are clawed open. He wants to scream but his breath is hitched. He whimpers instead, through the gaps in his palm covering his mouth. And just then the beast opens its own jaws, and roars a blood curling, horrid, chilling scream. a scream that sounds awful. A scream that sounds human.  
_

_  
  
~~~~  
  
  
_

Eddie woke up in his bed with a jolt.

He sorted his breathing as he slowly laid back on the soft pillow, adjusting his eyes to the darkness around him. The green light of his digital alarm clock illuminated the room with a dim glow as it flickered 5:15 am. Damn. Way too early. Or late. depends how you look at it. 

He breathed deeply.

He has been waking up before dawn quite a lot lately. Where once his restless nights were caused by nightmares or longings he couldn’t explain, now a false sense of urgency keeps washing over him and sends him shooting out of bed invigorated and searching. Like feeling as if you're being late for a flight, then immediately remembering you never even bought a ticket. Or rather, like gasping for an inhaler you know you’ve thrown away for good.

He took in air again. Slowly. Through his nose.

Instinctively, Eddie reached over to the right side of the bed. It was cold and empty. “What... where’s...” It took the blinking man a few seconds to remind himself. _Oh. Right._ This wasn't the upper east side flat he shared with Myra. It’s the midtown flat he moved into a few weeks ago. He is Eddie Kaspbark, newly divorced, in a badly furnished bachelor pad.

Eddie rubbed his eyes as the rest of his brain adjusted to his current reality like a computer reboot. He picked up the bottle of water from his night stand and drank in large gulps.

Whenever Eddie travelled abroad and slept in hotels, it would always take him a few nights to get accustomed to his new surroundings. Waking up those first few nights disoriented, bothered, and wondering where the hell his goddamn bedside pill cabinet was, before realizing he isn’t home at all.

His therapist offered a little routine to calm him down for when he is panicked and losing his sense of self in a new space. Trace your eyes slowly around the new room and name whatever familiar, basic furniture you recognize around. Stuff everyone has. Bed. Nightstand. Television set. Window. Closet. Then track the new furniture and items you’re not used to, whatever feels different and “wrong”: A Mini fridge. A Safe. Hotel room paintings. A huge crack in the wall that looks like it's been there for ages. Things like that. After a few days of the habit you’ll get settled enough to wake up relaxed.

His new living arrangement is quite similar, but the foreign feeling had been much less willing to get shaken off. As if his body is shocked by how much it needs to digest. And he found himself counting and naming furniture for weeks now.

Bed. Nightstand. Television set. Window. Curtains. Mirror. His feet. His arms. His fingertips.  
Ok Good.  
Now the less familiar.   
A different view from the window. A little kitchen built way too close to his bedroom. Plastic houseplants that looked anything but authentic. Tacky little armchair he’d never choose himself. New clothes still in a shopping-bag by the door. New thoughts in his mind. New scar on his cheek. New Eddie.  
He doesn’t wonder about the existence or rather, lack of bedside pill cabinet, he doesn’t own one anymore. Not since Derry.

He smiled as those strange, new memories poured in. It’s been about two months since Eddie and the rest of the losers reunited to destroy their childhood nightmares together. And his friends had changed so much in such a short time after. Bev left her shit for-a-husband and moved in with Ben, her solo fashion design business blooming as beautifully as she. Ben eased up on the obsessive weight lifting and strict dieting, earning him a little gut- which everyone agreed made him look even hotter, and Ben in turn speaks enthusiastically about the happiness of eating carbs again.  
Bill traveled up from LA to Carmel to write books by the sea and Eddie swore half the man’s wrinkles and fine lines had faded. His hair even looked thicker. Mike finally moved to Florida to live, as he said, “As an old retiree, soaking in the sun, playing bingo and drinking Mai Tais”. He deserves that. They all deserve that.

Still, Eddie couldn’t help but feel a little envious when he thought of them. He has certainly moving forward. At his own pace, as his therapist would say. But he still felt stuck somehow. Eager to move much quicker than reality is currently willing. He thought of himself as swimming slowly in thick molasses, while the city around him shoots ahead in lighting speed. 

Eddie wondered grimly if this is what growing old feels like.   
_Huh. That sounds like something Stan would say_. He thought. He missed him deeply.

Eddie looked out the window, spotting a thin silver ring around a darkened moon, a slight hint with a promise. He’d seen New Moons before, but never one so picturesque and distinct. It was pretty. Almost worth waking up this obscenely early for. The time was steadily reaching 5:45am, which was officially early rather than late, by his book.

His thoughts lastly drifted to Richie. They met a few weeks ago, when Richie travelled over to New York. He came to test out new comedy material for a few gigs around NYC, and invited Eddie over to a club in Greenwich Village to share his notes, or rather, ruthless critique.   
Richie seemed fresh onstage. Clean Shaven, eyes shining, new energy. Eddie even found himself laughing out loud a few good times. Not that he’d give Richie the satisfaction of knowing he thought the man was funny for a change.

_Richie smiles widely as he meets Eddie outside the comedy club. “Holy Shit Spaghetti! You actually bothered to come!”_

_“Yeah well, you invited me, dipshit.”_

_“Still! Dragging your ass all the way from fancy uptown for little ol’ me! Was it worth it, baby?” Eddie hates the nicknames, but loves the sense of familiarity. “Hardly. But there’s good pizza around here so I figured at least i’ll have something to wash the bad taste down with.”_

_“OUCH! Is that any way to treat a friend when they get you free tickets to the best show in town??”  
_ _  
_ _“I wouldn’t know.”_

_Richie laughs heartily at the jab and pats Eddie’s back. “Come on, dinner is on me. As an apology for what you’ve had to endure in there. Let’s scram, I don’t wanna have to talk to any of these other assholes. Did you know comedians truly, monumentally suck? NOPE, Don’t answer that. ANDALÉ!”_

_Eddie watches the larger man as they walk towards the pizza place. Examining his features. Richie notices, suddenly bashful. “What? I got something on my face? Is it a cheeto? I did eat an entire bag of cheetos before the gig._

_Eddie frownes in disgust. “Ew. No. it’s just your regular dumb face. Also you gotta change those eating habits man, you’re gonna die at 45.”_

_Richie cleared his throat as if preparing for a speech. He shifts his posture and announces in a deep, news anchor voice: “Richie Tozier, infamous sham comedian dead at 45 due to a constant diet of Pringles, weed and anxious thoughts. He was found on the toilet, cheap canned wine in one hand and an empty box of Marlboro light in the other.”_

_"He died as he lived” Eddie adds with a chuckle “A cautionary tale of an abused temple.”_

_Richie burst out laughing. “Literally no one has ever referred to my body as a temple, but i’ll take it”._

_Despite the mutual tease, Eddie genuinely thinks Richie looks much better than he’d seen him in Derry. Happier. In control. He says as much. “Seriously though, Rich, you look good man, I’m glad you’re writing new material. It... doesn’t suck as bad. alright?”_

_Richie grins. “Aw, Eds. I’m going to take that half-compliment with me to my early grave. He looks down, smiling gently, then back at Eddie. “Things are ok. I suppose. I’m trying to figure it all out. We’ll see.”_

_Since a ridiculously early age, Eddie always followed Richie’s lead, whether he meant to or not. Much to his mother’s dismay- Into trouble as well as out of it. So there was something inherently comforting about Richie glowing up and finding a place in this new, new world, this new reality they were both thrusted into. Maybe if Eddie is able to be at least one step behind, he can get there too. Richie orders his Pizza toppings, and Eddie orders the exact same thing._

Lost in thoughts and memories, Eddie suddenly realized his phone had been buzzing for a few seconds, perplexed and still bleary eyed he looked at the screen before answering immediately.

“Richie...? What are... “ Eddie glanced at his digital clock. 6:00 am. “Isn’t it like the middle of the night in LA?”  
He pressed his ear to the phone tighter as he heard unclear shifting noises “Ah hey Eds... yeah. Yeah it’s 3 am in LA. Yeah” Richie sounded confused.  
“Okay... that’s so weird, actually. I was just thinking about y-- I was thinking about everything. You know- the losers, the last few months. Just now.”  
“Oh yeah? Ha. That’s... things were a little nuts I guess. yeah.” Richie sounded odd. Worried? Wounded? Eddie could hear the muffled sounds of cars through the phone. Is Richie outside?  
“What’s up Rich? Everything ok over there?”

Richie went silent, then answered hesitantly. “Um... so, you know that thing we said we are gonna start doing? That we- that we call each other when something is... when we need... “ He could hear Richie swallowing hard.

Eddie knew what Richie had meant. Before they all separated in Derry they swore to never forget again. They all live in different cities and states now, so it can be easy to slip away, but losers stick together, They need each other. Understand one another better than anyone. So they made a pact, a new, more lenient one that didn’t involve any blood oaths, thank god: If one loser ever needs the other for any reason, they call right away, no questions asked. ‘ _We say, Code Red’,_ Bill suggested _. No dilemma or s-s-second thoughts_ . _We don’t want another tragedy, like S- S- S-.._ " He didn’t need to finish. They all knew he meant Stan. 

Eddie’s brow furrowed. “Richie, is this a code red situation? Should I call the others?”

“No!” Richie’s voice was loud and clear. “ ..No? I don’t so. Maybe it’s more like a code orange? UGH. Why did Bill call it that? What does that even mean? It sounds like something out of a child services handbook. ‘Code red means the mom definitely sold her kids for cocaine.’ ”  
“Richie, Focus. Do you wanna tell me why you called me in the middle of the night or you’re just keeping us both up to practice your bits?”  
Richie laughed nervously “Jeez eds, up and ready with that tough love huh? Brutal.” He stayed quiet for a few moments. “... I’m actually here.”

Eddie rose up in bed “Here?”  
“In new york. I-In your building”  
Eddie’s head snapped to the door. “Are you fucking serious? Now? Really?”  
“Um. Yeah. Sorry. I just.. Can you buzz me in? I asked some crusty looking old lady with a poodle to let me in and she wouldn’t. Guess she’s not a fan?”  
“Oh my god. Richie. When did you... shit, hold on” Eddie bounced off the bed and paced quickly to his front door, buzzing Richie in the building and rubbing his face as he waited for a knock that came soon after.

He opened the door to find Richie standing there, small suitcase in hand, a thick five oclock shadow decorating his face and dark circles looming under his eyes, his lips stretched to an awkward smile.

“H..hiya Eds”

“Yeah” Eddie replied “That’s DEFINITELY a code red situation.” 

~~~~  
  


They sat in front of each other in Eddie’s little living room, Richie on the sofa holding an untouched cup of espresso. Eddie in an armchair, his chin resting against his palm. He was looking at Richie, waiting for him to speak. This is a lot like his therapist sessions, he thought in amusement. Though, he’s not sure what therapist would accept a patient within a 3 minute notice at 6 am. Or what patient would be willing to take advice from HIM.

“This is a nice place.” Richie attempted small talk, clearly avoidant. “Pretty big. In New York standards. Expensive?”  
“It’s alright.” Eddie leaned back and rubbed his neck. “I had a good divorce lawyer so... Not much of a problem. Money-wise.”  
Richie nodded, his eyes drifting over the entire apartment as he was tapping his thigh.  
“Oh! How is your collarbone, Eds?” Richie inquired. Still delaying. “Still going to physiotherapy?”

Eddie’s left arm stirred a little in response. After Eddie snapped Richie out of his deadlights trance, they just barely avoided getting shish-kebabed by the clown, thanks to the taller man rolling them both over to safety. Eddie came out of the mess with a broken clavicle since being squashed by a 6”1 yeti-man had its own consequences, but, considering, it was a fairly minor inconvenience more than anything. The kind of injury bicycle messengers and overly active children stumble onto.  
Nevertheless, Richie felt obviously guilty about it.  
  
“It’s ok Rich, I already told you I can barely feel it anymore. What’s happening, man? What is this?”  
  
Richie tensed but seemed to be giving in, finally. After taking a sip from his already cold espresso and grimacing, he started, eyes still glued to his cup.  
“So um.. Before that happened.” He gestured at Eddie’s left shoulder. I was... It.. Pennywise. He caught me in those weird ass spinning lights. Like he did to Bev.”  
“The deadlights.”  
“Yeah. I never told you guys what I saw there.”

It’s true, Richie never did. And none of them dared to ask. Either too uncomfortable to bring up the painful memory, or terrified to know what visions Richie had seen there, plagued with.

“No, you didn’t.”

Richie swallowed audibly and continued.   
“It wasn’t anything like what Bev told us she saw. I didn’t see _us_ there, in the lights. Alive or dead. I didn’t see _anything_ there. Just a deep... _horrible_ darkness. Pitch black. As if nothing ever existed or ever going to exist except this... ocean of nothing. I was just hovering there, completely alone.” 

Richie opened and closed his mouth a few times. Thinking how to move forward. He took another sip and continued, stumbling on his words.

“S-See, I.. I had this stupid spiritual phase once, alright? Tried meditation and shit. Yeah. Shut up. Fucking Hollywood. Anyway so the yoga teacher was talking about reaching a “state of bliss” with our “out-of- consciousness nothingness”, or whatever. Being comfortable with the vacant and unknown. Again, shut up. It was supposed to help my anxieties. But that shit ended up doing the exact opposite, just freaking me out and making them worse, so I quit. Pot is cheaper, right? Anyway, what I saw in the deadlights? That was exactly like that, like my new age-bullshit-induced-freak out. But tuned up by a thousand. A nothingness with no zen shit or serenity or peace. just... a _void_. 

He placed it down the cup on the table and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, palms clasped.

“After some time... I have no idea how fucking long. Could’ve been seconds, could’ve been HOURS. But at some point I’m starting to feel cold. Really fucking cold. I’m talking being outside in a Maine winter snow storm without your goddamn pants on cold. I could barely breathe without it hurting. And then... I saw _something_.”

Richie started shaking, he ran a hand through his hair. Eddie listened quietly.

“Heh, what a crappy time to quit smoking, right? ...A-Anyway. I saw something. It was fuzzy at first, like when I don’t have my glasses on. But then... clear as day, two big. Glowing, red eyes. I had no idea what it was but I didn’t fucking want to know. I just had this terrible feeling down the pit of my stomach that it was bad. Worse than being stuck in darkness. Even worse than the clown.”

He paused.

Before I could even think, that thing the red eyes belonged to, it was right in front of me. I didn’t even hear it fucking move, Eds, it was just THERE. Breathing over me. Smelling me. Some... beast. Monster. It was huge, the size of a bear. But it wasn’t a bear. It wasn’t like any animal i’ve ever fucking seen. Hideous, shaggy haired, Black, as dark as the nothingness around us, it felt unnatural. It felt _wrong_. And it was so close I could feel its breath all over my fucking face.

T...then it opened its mouth. Jaws? It flashed this set of these... ENOURMOUS, long, sharp fucking teeth that didn’t look like they could even fit its mouth. And it _screamed,_ Eddie. Not roar. Not a growl. A human fucking scream. A horror movie- agony stricken- shriek you can’t imagine any person is capable of but you still recognize it just as well. I couldn’t even tell if that thing was angry or-or sad or... I was positive I was dying. Or already dead. I remember thinking there’s no way anyone can stay sane after hearing that. Seeing that.”

Eddie was wide eyed, he gulped audibly.  
“W...What happened then?”  
“You snapped me out of it. We beat the clown. Yada yada yada. We’re here.”

Eddie was just slack-jawed. Unsure what to say.  
  
Richie scratched his neck with discomfort.“I...I know it doesn’t sound that serious, bro. Considering everything we’ve all been through, it being just another memory I mean. But Eddie, it felt different. It felt SO real. Realer than anything i’ve been through. That... scream. God.”  
  
He rubbed his eyes while Eddie was searching in himself for what to say. “Shit Richie, I’m... I mean, That sounds fucking horrifying. Why didn’t you tell us?”  
Richie layed back on the sofa and crossed his arms ”Honestly? I... Freaking forgot. That memory popped up about a few weeks after we beat the clown and I came back to LA. It hit me all at once, out of the blue.” He moved to stare out the window.  
  
Eddie shifted uncomfortably, unsure why the next question felt dangerous. “What the hell made you remember that, Rich?”   
Richie looked back and opened his mouth, then lowered his gaze away from Eddie. “I...I don’t know.”

Whatever it was Richie wasn’t telling him compelled Eddie to want to press harder, inquire and force Richie to spill it out, but the truth was, Eddie dreaded the answer. So he retreated.

“Is this why you’ve been avoiding our message group lately? I mean we’re all here for you Rich. No one is gonna give you shit about it. We’re all fucked up together, remember?”  
Richie cringed and shook his head. “No. no. no. that’s not- that’s not all of it. You think i’d travel 3000 fucking miles without warning you just to tell you a goddamn ghost story? There’s more. I didn’t tell you everything... it’s not- fuck. Can I smoke? I lied about quitting smoking by the way.”   
“Richie...”  
“Please.”  
Richie looked deep into his eyes. Damn. Eddie must be really worried about Richie right now, because he couldn’t believe he’s actually going to say what he was about to say.   
“Fine. Just... do it by the open window, ok? And don’t you dare throw the bud outside when you’re done, i’m on thin ice with the landlord as it is.”

Richie walked over to the window and pulled out a cigarette and a lighter in one swift movement from his jeans pocket. Eddie frowned. In his office, it was a well known fact: anyone who even dares to open a pack next to Eddie Kaspbrak will get such a tongue lashing they wished they never had been hired in the first place, and he wanted so badly to give Richie the longest speech about what he’s doing to both of their poor lungs right now, but he held himself back. Just This once.

Richie took that first cigarette puff and sighed deeply, a man quenched, and Eddie thought it's funny how he absolutely loathes the smell of tobacco, but also finds a strange, comforting familiarity in the scent. It reminded him of Richie.

Richie caught his eye, and Eddie’s disapproval probably showed because the larger man wiggled his palm, cigarette smoke following the trail of movement “Don’t give me that look. This is strictly for when I'm nervous and for after big meals, eduardo.”  
“So all the time then”  
Richie laughed “Yeah, pretty much.”

Eddie groaned “Look Rich, I’m... trying to be gentle here but I can’t fucking help you if you won’t talk to me. If there’s more to the story, just spit it out. I’m not fragile. Or.. or scared. I won’t run away screaming.”  
“Not fragile is saying it lightly! You’re a fucking interrogation machine eds, jeez” Richie breathed in the cigarette and blew out some smoke slowly. “McCarthy has got nothing on you. Give me a sec will ya?”  
Eddie chuckled lightly despite the tension. He did appreciate it when Richie saw him as confident. Maybe even a little tough.

He decided to take pity on the increasingly paling man, and while intense curiosity prodded his mind, he went on to lighten the mood.  
“Okay. So... I was thinking about going upstate this week actually.”  
  
That seemed to do the trick- Richie’s shoulders relaxed. “Oh yeah? Living it up, Eds?”  
“  
It’s a little cabin in _Hope, New York._ My family on my dad’s side owned it for a few generations apparently. It’s mine now. After Momm-- my mother passed. It’s part of her estate. It was supposed to be a summer home for us but we never went, I mean... she’d never let me travel anywhere without a pharmacy in at least 20 miles proximity. Let alone a cabin surrounded by every plant and herb that could potentially make me burst in hives.”  
  
Richie smiled “I bet you would’ve complained every single day if you went, but like... secretly loved going there.”  
  
Eddie snickered. “Thanks asshole. But yeah, you're probably right. I thought the same thing when I read her will. There’s literally nothing around that town but trees and yards of snow. But now, with everything that happened... I think the air up there will do me good, you know? Being a little away from it all. New york is suffocating, bro. Too many memories no matter where I go. I’d like to give it a try, anyway. Aiming towards spending around a month there.”  
  
Richie grinned. “Edward, the brave burly woodsman! Are you gonna be sporting a thick lumberjack beard and red flannel shirts the next time I see you? Not gonna lie, Eds, it's kinda doing it for me.”  
“Oh, shut up.” Eddie blushed despite himself “I regret telling you anything.”  
“Whoops! Too late, it’s in the spank bank now. Might need to add an axe or swiss army knife to complete the picture though. What’s your weapon of choice dude?”  
“OK out of my house, NOW.”  
  
Richie hollered. "You're so cranky in the mornings now! You used to be a morning person! I’m just deflecting with humor cause I’m jealous, dude.”  
Eddie was puzzled “Jealous? Of what?”  
“Cause you’ve been doing SO well since we came back, man!” Richie gestures with his hand towards Eddie “Look at you, turning your life around, overcoming 40 fucking years of perpetual jitters, traveling to the WOODS! I’m proud of you, dude. But.. I’m jealous as fuck too.” He took one last whiff of his cigarette before chucking it into the empty espresso cup and walking back to the sofa , landing on it with a thud. “Because I, on the other hand, am a mess. A total, flaming trash-can, unending issue piling mess.”

Eddie ignored how disgusting what Richie just did is and focused on what he had just said. Eddie always followed Richie’s lead, and assumed he’d feel lost whenever Richie steered off track, but now? he was just overcome with a great need to protect him, help lead his way. After a few seconds, his lips moved on their own.

“Come with me.”

Richie was clearly caught off guard “What?”   
“To _Hope_ , upstate” Eddie clarified. “Join me.”   
“I... um....”  
Eddie continued. “It... it’s a family cabin and it has a few bedrooms, so there’s plenty of space. And it’s not an old timey amish barn or some shit like that, there’s a generator with a kitchen and everything.”  
He saw hesitation, but also the glint of interest in Richie’s eyes. So he went on.  
“I.. I’ll obviously bring my laptop with me, to catch up on some work. You can keep writing your new material there! and- and- Albany is about an hour ride if we feel like catching a movie or whatever.”  
  
Richie’s face lit up, as he seemed to be considering this. “Huh... that... that actually sounds...” But his relief quickly returned to sulking, looking even more worried than before. He rubbed his neck. “I don’t know if it’s such a good idea, Eds.”

Eddie's heart sank and he immediately regretted offering. Stupid. Richie is hurting and he’s offering a fucking field trip.  
Damn, why did Richie’s rejection sting so much?

“...Why?”  
  
“...I think it’s still after me.”

Not what Eddie was expecting, to say the least. “What?”

“That... monster.” Richie explained, slowly. “From the camp.”   
“Are you sure?”  
Richie laughed bitterly “Am I.. heh. I’m not sure of anything anymore.” his gaze turned to the window again.

“When I travelled over here a few weeks ago, when you came to that lame comedy club gig, remember? After we had pizza you took a subway home and I headed back to my hotel, it was just a few blocks away, but it was so nice and warm I just kept strolling around Washington Square Park to smoke a joint. Don’t start- It’s medicinal. No it isn’t, I'm lying. Whatever. Anyway, it was oddly quiet. The city that never sleeps my ass huh? I’m sitting down on a bench, just watching the leaves pile up on the pavement and thinking about how weird it is that leaves change color like that. I don’t know man, I was high.

After a few minutes It suddenly got really fucking cold. Freezing. Couldn’t breath. Just like in the quarry. And fuck me, I was absolutely terrified to look up because I knew, I just knew it would be there. But I did. And Eddie. I SAW it. AGAIN. That... black, furry beast. With the red eyes. Exactly the same. When my useless fucking limbs finally listened to my brain I screamed like a bitch and sprinted the fuck out of there. Scared the shit out of some homeless dude who was just chilling. I tried to tell myself it was probably my crumbling nerves, maybe a bad fucking joint.” Richie gulped. “But a month went by, just _one month,_ and I saw it AGAIN, Eds. This time on a hiking trail behind my house, in fucking LA, man!” Richie took a shaky breath. “Same thing. Cold. red eyes. Black fur...Everything. Eddie. It. is. following. me.”

Eddie learned forward, dead serious, asking a question he didn’t wanna know the answer to. “Was it... is it-- ?”

“Pennywise? I have no idea, I don’t think so? I don’t know if it's real and I have to stop it, or if it’s me losing my mind, like my bad fucking diet finally catching up on me and destroying my last brain cells. I wish I could find some fucking twitter thread about a weird furry creatures terrorizing Hollywood hikers. To let me know I’m not crazy. But there's nothing. Whatever it is, it’s fucking HAUNTING ME. I’m losing sleep because I'm having all sorts of nightmares about it. I can’t talk to any therapist because how would that conversation even go? ‘Before I tell you about the monster I should mention the evil fucking clown I killed TWICE with my childhood friends’. I don’t know what to do. This is why I came. This is why I’m here. I’m so sorry I’m dropping this all on you but... who else can I turn to?”

Eddie has seen monsters. He has seen leppers, terrifying visions, relentless demons, murderous clowns. He knows they’re real. But more importantly: he knows they can be defeated. He also knows at the bottom of his heart, more than anything, no one, no matter how strong, cunning, clever or brave, can face them alone. Whatever it was courage he earned being friends with the losers, it's time to give Richie that same boost of bravery.

He rubbed his chin. “You’re saying there’s a monster out there, yeah?” Richie’s gaze turned to Eddie   
“I think so.”  
“And it follows you wherever you go.”  
He nods. “Looks like it.”  
Eddie gets up, places his hands on his hips. “Ok then.”   
“Eddie..?”  
Eddie was confident and decisive. “We’re going to beat it.”

Richie blinked “What? ‘We’re’? Eddie, I don’t know if its even-- You’re not a part of this man, don’t get dragged into my issues. I just wanted to spit it out, I didn't mean you should--”

Eddie chopped the air with his palm as he so often does when he argues with anyone, but especially with Richie. “DON’T tell me what I can and cannot do, bro. Richie, what’s the goddamn point of having demon slaying skills if we’re just gonna sit around and do nothing about it? What was the whole point of that... shitshow, absolute HELL we went through last summer if we’re just gonna keep doing squat when we run into literal monsters? We did it before together, Rich, And we can do it again. You’re absolutely NOT doing this alone. This isn’t an argument.”

Richie opened his mouth to speak a few times but said nothing. He was in complete awe. If Eddie hadn’t felt so damn serious right now, he’d run a gag about how lovely it is to see Richie shutting up for once.

“Well?”

Richie looked up at him, something between fondness and awe in his eyes, and nodded. “Okay.”

_  
  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Good times and funnies in the next couple of episodes. I promise.  
> 2\. It's been more than a decade since the twilight saga, i can use "new moon" right?  
> 3\. If you're familiar with this fic, thank you for noticing! I've uploaded this work a few months ago and decided to remove and give it a big of a face lift before uploading it again.  
> 4\. More explicit stuff in the episodes to come, so I tagged it already


	2. Crescent Moon

When you get a relatively light injury as, say, a broken collarbone, in some cases you’re presented with an option- let it heal by itself over the course of a few months, or go through surgery, which means most likely a platinum disc or screw will be inserted to support the fractured bone. It shortens the healing process and gives quick results. However, it does mean getting through an invasive procedure many people are wary of.

Eddie Kaspbark, a self voluntary guinea pig for any medical advances, experienced hospital and medical center dweller and first aid kit champion, lay down in the Derry hospital bed with minor scratches, deep bruises, a fracture that only hinted towards what deadly faith COULD’VE awaited him, and a decision to make.

He understood the risks and side effects of anesthesia, and weighed them against the benefits of treating his clavicle as efficiently as possible: Letting the bone heal by itself takes time. It might cause shoulder narrowing. It can act up and ache with age. Surgery is effective, quick, with proven good results, but anesthesia might weaken the immune system and cause side effects. Eddie considered the options logically, a risk analyst through and through.  
But if he was being honest with himself, the thought that really kept pounding in his head more than any rational examination was thick with a sense of urgency: I want to get better. I want to get better NOW. I want to get out of this hospital, I want to start my life again as soon as possible.

So he went with surgery.

It was a good choice, Eddie thought as he sat in his car, stretching his left arm. His shoulder did heal incredibly fast, but not without the occasional pain shooting whenever he made any sharp movement: that, for example, is something he didn’t consider when he went under the cut- that surgery would go so well he’d forget the arm needed healing, care, and physiotherapy. It needs time. Everything needs time.

Eddie set his hands on the wheel and glanced over at Richie in the passenger seat. “Did you set up waze? I’ve never driven outside of NYC before.” a car loudly honking behind them shook Eddie who grunted heavily and resisted the urge to honk back. “Ugh, I could not get out of this shithole sooner.”  
“Locked and loaded eduardo!” Richie, wearing an “I <3 NYC” baseball cap, set the iphone in place and gave Eddie a thumbs up.  
“Honestly, that’s the worst hat Richie. You look like some lame ass tourist.”  
“Nah ah.” Richie wagged his finger ”The WORST hat I have is a ‘make america dumb again’ red cap, which got me almost beat up TWICE by republicans and one time by a very confused democrat. And for your information, I AM a lame tourist!”  
“Gee, Ya coulda fooled me.”

It’s been a couple of days since Richie crashed Eddie’s apartment, confused and anxious. After reaching a mutual agreement they should deal with whatever is plaguing Richie together, they decided Eddie’s travel plans to Hope, NY might actually be their best plan of action.

_“It’s in the middle of nowhere, right?” Richie brushes a sweat off his brow “ If it IS following me we should probably confront it where there aren’t too many people around. To avoid another Derry situation.”_  
 _Eddie frowns “You travel all the way to one of the most populated cities in the world knowing a monster is following you and NOW you’re worried about that??”  
_ _“Well I didn’t try to fucking fight it till now! What if we fail and just make it angrier!?”  
_ _“Ok, fine. Let’s not think about that now.”  
_ _“And hey” Richie adds “If it DOES turn out i’m losing my marbles, at least i’ll get a nice countryside vacation out of it.”_

Richie was insistent about not involving the rest of the losers. According to him, they all seem so happy and content in their new lives, and he already felt terribly guilty and embarrassed to drag even one of them to this mess. Against his better judgement Eddie succumbed to his wishes. Richie can be hellishly stubborn when he wants to.  
  
“You sure you have everything you need Rich? You only brought that tiny suitcase with you after all.”  
“Oh sure” Richie nodded in confidence. “I basically wear the same thing all week and i don’t really need more than one pair of pants.”  
Eddie was appalled “ONE? Richie! We’re going to be there for weeks!!”  
“Then I’ll borrow a pair of yours!”  
“Good thinking asshole, you know they won’t fit you.”  
“Did you just call me FAT?”  
“Whatever, i’m NOT letting you live in your own filth for a month. We need to get some supplies on the way anyway, we’ll grab some clothes for you there too.”  
Richie emoted exaggerated gratitude “Aw, Eds, you’re giving me a makeover!”  
“It’s not a makeover, it’s a sensible series of purchases so you don’t stink up my family’s cabin.”  
“Fine. but if you change your mind and decide to go all She’s all that on me, don’t go as far as removing my glasses. I look like shit without em. And I’m basically blind.”  
Eddie rolled his eyes. “Noted.”

It’s a 3-4 hour ride to Hope, NY, and the two men really could not agree on an album to listen to on the way. ( _“Depeche Mode!” “What are you, fifteen, Richie??” “Well what do you suggest then??” “...I like Enya.” “...What the what.”_ ) so they just had the radio set on oldies, ‘oldies’ apparently, being an incredibly broad umbrella term for basically anything from the 1950's to the 1980’s. They didn’t mind most of the songs, despite the ones from the 80’s bringing up the occasional cringey memory. That was the problem with remembering, you’re hit with not only the good and the bad, but also the mildly embarrassing and terribly awkward.

Spanish Eyes by Madonna came on, and Richie started laughing.  
“Oh my god, Eds, do you remember how OBSESSED you were with this song??"  
“What!? No I wasn’t!”  
“Yes you were!!! You kept singing it EVERYWHERE, you drove stan insane.”  
Eddie raised a hand to his mouth as he recalled the events. “Oh my god. I think you’re right! Oh wow. Oh yeah, Stan wanted to KILL me!”  
“Yeah man! You only stopped after he told you it’s actually a super depressing song Madonna wrote about a friend who died from AIDS. Then it was dead silence from you. Until your next obsession that is.”  
  
Eddie felt his stomach turning. He remembered. He remembered how mortified he had felt. As if he might catch the disease simply by singing that song. Pathetic.  
  
Richie noticed his distress. “Relax dude, it’s not THAT embarrassing. It was in the same year I went for a hasselhoff bubble-perm for crying out loud!”  
Eddie nodded and smiled uncomfortably. “Yeah. Yeah no, it’s not that. I... just thought about Stan.” Not totally the truth. Not a lie either. Eddie did think a lot about Stan lately.  
“Yeah.” Richie nodded. “Poor Stan. God. Do you think he’d act the same? If we met him again?”  
“Stan has been 40 years old since he has old enough to say his own name so yes, probably”  
“Maybe it’d be a Benjamin Button situation, he’d suddenly grow up all super awesome and chill, pop up in the Jade of the Orient and be like ‘sup losers! Let’s make that clown our BITCH yo!’”  
Eddie snorted. “Oh my god, Stanley saying ‘yo’. UNLIKELY. Besides, you read that letter he sent all of us, it sounded just like him.

They both turned quiet at the mention of Stan’s letter. Eddie felt he maybe shouldn’t have brought that up.

They drove together in silence for a little while, the sounds of an old ballad they weren’t familiar with playing on the radio.

“In Derry” Richie broke the tension with a hoarse voice, licking his lips. “I said Stan was weak, the weakest of our group” He swallowed. “But I... I didn’t really mean that, you know. I was just.. So upset with him. For not reaching out or something. I really wish he’d join us, then. To destroy that clown together. I wish he had given himself some goddamn time to heal.”

_Time to heal_ Eddie thought, flexing his shoulder. It suddenly felt a bit too much.

“Well, I hate to put a pause on the nostalgia hour, but we should probably decide about where we wanna stop for bathroom and shopping.”  
“What’s on the way?”  
“Hmm... we’re about half hour away from Sleepy Hollow now”  
Richie grimaced “Yeah, big fat no on creepy town with a dark history, Eduardo”  
“...Fair point. Hmm.. we can stop at Albany. it's miles away but it’s closer to Hope.”  
“...I don’t know if I should go anywhere super populated right now.”  
  
“Richard...”  
“Edward...”  
  
Eddie tried. He hated seeing Richie paralyzed with fear. It felt unusual. “You said this thing only appears at night, right? I don’t think it's going to change strategy and attack you in broad daylight, if we only just--”  
“Eddie.” Richie turned to him with a pained expression Eddie has never seen on his face. “Please?”  
Eddie got the hint. So he just dropped it.

“...Okay, What about Woodstock?”

“What, like the festival?”

Eddie giggled at that. “It was a town first. It’s like 70 miles away from our current location and the population is tiny. I’m talking less than 5000 people. It’s not empty but... Maybe relatively easier to avoid people?”  
Richie considers this. “Yeah, that sounds okay.”  
Eddie was glad. “Alright, to Woodstock then.”  
  
Richie grabbed Eddie’s shoulder in excitement. “Whoa. Eds, do you think the stage from ‘69 is still there??? Could we hop on it and pretend we’re Creedence Clearwater Revival??”  
Eddie chuckled “The festival itself was about 40 miles away from woodstock, actually. And ״Creedence Clearwater Revival Dude? How is THAT your first association?"  
“Fuck off man!” Richie laughed heartily “My Mom loved them at the time!”  
“You’re not allowed to laugh at me for Madonna anymore.”  
“Ok, it’s not the same, like, AT ALL, but I’m willing to play into your fantasy scenario cause you’re buying me pants.”  
“Who the hell said I was the one buying them??”  
  
But Richie wasn’t listening anymore, he was deep into singing Fortunate Son and drumming with his fingers against the dashboard.

♫ It ain’t meeee  
It ain’t meeeee  
I ain’t no fortunate one nooooo ♪

He was such a bad singer.

“Oh shit Eds!” he stopped abruptly “Did i grab your shoulder there too hard before? Is it ok?” Eddie frowned. “The fracture is on the other side, Rich. And stop treating me like I’m goddamn breakable! It sucks man.”  
“I’m not-” Richie hesitated and turned to his seat. “Yeah, you’re right, ok. I won’t.”

They continued their journey in silence, watching the road pass by as the sounds of familiar and less familiar tunes calmed the tense air.

~~~~  
  


Five hours later, 3 woodstock bathroom breaks, and shopping at the worst 2nd hand store in the state in New York, Richie and Eddie arrived at Hope.

“I cannot believe I bought you those hideous pants.”  
“Hey, they’re vintage! Chloe at the counter said so!”  
“I doubt anyone alive, but her, counts 2005 as vintage.”

Eddie eyed Richie’s brand new purchase with disgust. They were oversized black cargo pants with blue holographic flames printed at the bottom. They had 2 huge side pockets with a chunky zipper plasted on awkwardly, and despite Richie’s height, they still reached the bottom of his shoes.

“Someone definitely got fired for making those. Also you shouldn’t wear 2nd hand shit before disinfecting them properly. Who knows what the original owner of these pants did in em” “Got laid a ton because they’re awesome, probably?”  
“Gross, Richie.”

The car started rattling as they drove through a unpaved road, the more they advanced they saw less signs of civilization and more trees, wild shrubs, melted snow. It was nice.  
As a kid, Eddie adored summer. He loved hanging out with his friends without the restraints of school, dangers of bullies, and watching eye of his mother. But as he grew older, he developed a great appreciation for winter, how serene and romantic it can be. Melancholic in all the right ways.  
The sleek, fresh atmosphere of the woods around soothed him.  
  
Eddie noticed Richie seemed satisfied too, this empty oasis being exactly what he wanted.  
  
Once passing the grove, they reached the cabin, which was pretty much what anyone would’ve expected a cabin to look like: simple built, manual labour woodwork, quaint rustic feel. As Eddie parked the car and they started carrying out the groceries, they could smell the crisp, fresh pine all around them.

Richie shivered dramatically. “Brrrr! Fuck me, it’s cold! Those flames at the bottom of my pants do nothing!”  
“What did you expect, dumbass? It’s winter and we’re basically halfway to canada. I told you you need warmer pants!”  
Richie hopped over towards the cabin “let’s get in let’s get in let’s get in.”  
  
To his terror, the inside of the cabin was freezing as well.  
  
“Oh god we’re going to die in here.”  
“Oh my god no we won’t! How on earth did you ever make it alive this far!” Eddie fumbled the wooden wall for the light switch “We just need to find the heater and turn it on.”

Eddie finally found the switch and lights went on.  
The cabin was nice enough inside as well. A relatively large living room with two Big sofas, an ok armchair (Eddie disliked this one as well as the one in his NY apartment), a small kitchen, a corridor leading to a few bedrooms. All in warm, wooden themed panels and colors. It looked old, but comfy. Several big embroidered decorative pillows on the floor for extra coziness. He didn’t see any sign of a heater though, but a big fireplace that looks like it hadn't been used in years. 

“Wow Eds, when was the last time your family decorated here? Check out this TV!” He walked over to the TV stand. “It’s one of those huge boxes from the 90s!”  
“Yeah well, no one lived here for long since the 90s.” He studied the cabin, exploring the surroundings “My Uncles made it their summer home when my mom wouldn’t go. They spent months here every year, but when my cousins got older they only came on special occasions.” He stared at the fireplace, examining it. “My older cousin and his wife actually spent a week here last month. So at least we know this place isn’t entirely abandoned and filthy.”  
  
Richie shivered. “This is a very sweet story but i’m freezing my fucking dick off. Heater?? Now??”  
  
“We only have this fireplace and I’m not sure how to use it.”  
  
Richie cleared his throat, pointing at a huge stack of logs covering one of the cabin walls.  
  
“And? I don’t know what to do with those. Do you know how to do this?”  
“Of course I don’t! This is YOUR cabin!”  
“Only technically! I’ve never been here before!”  
“I mean how hard could it be? Pick a log, toss it in, throw a match in?”  
“But there’s all kinds of... pipes and exits and shit?? What if we burn down the cabin, Rich?”  
“WHY ARE WE SUCH DISASTERS AT SURVIVING?”  
“I DON’T KNOW!”

~~~~

They were, in fact, disasters, Eddie understood, but they did manage to set a nice looking fire with the support of WikiHow and some helpful suburban youtube moms obsessed with picturesque fireplaces despite living in miami.

Richie was spread all limbs over one of the sofas, relaxed.

“I’m never leaving this spot. Call my manager and tell him I quit.”  
Eddie was busy sorting the groceries and making sure they have everything they need. “You’ll die after 2 months from boredom and hunger”  
Richie laughed and turned to him “What, postmates don’t deliver here, Eds?”  
“I love how your first option is takeaway rather than cooking.”  
Richie pointed at him “Hey! For your information I’m AWESOME at cooking. I just don’t do it often.”  
“Okay, suppose I believe you, why is that?”  
Richie shrugged. “It’s not really fun cooking just for yourself, I guess.”  
  
Eddie paused at that. He wasn’t expecting a genuine answer and the loneliness it evoked caught him off guard. Did Richie feel alone much?  
  
Richie must’ve sensed the mood shifting because he deflected once more. “Besides, it’s hella boring. BUT if you find yourself craving pasta carbonara at some point, just say si, bambino!”

Eddie finished unloading and noticed another bag resting by the entrance door. It was tall and thin, and he didn’t remember buying it. “What's that?”  
Richie’s eyes widened and he flung out of the couch quickly, holding onto the package. “Nothing, forget about it.”  
  
Eddie raised a brow.  
  
“Just something I picked up at Woodstock, it’s not a big deal, Eds.”  
“Yeah, such a small, not-big-deal that you nearly crapped yourself when I was about to open it. Either you tell me now or I’ll just find out later myself.”  
Richie frowned and looked away from the bag, handing it to Eddie with hesitation.

“A GUN!?”

“This is why I didn’t wanna tell you about it, man, I knew you’d freak out.”  
“Where the hell did you even buy this?! When!?”  
“... That vintage store was pretty versatile”  
  
Eddie was beyond himself “Oh, so it’s a SECOND HAND Gun! Super safe Richie, that’s great.”   
Richie was growing impatient. “It’s just a safety measure Eddie. Calm the fuck down.”  
“I will NOT calm the fuck down, it’s dangerous having something like that laying around the house!”  
“WELL, How did you suppose we beat that monster? With hugs?”  
“I don’t fucking know! but that’s the sort of thing you need to consult with ME about first, we’re in this together, dude!”  
“We’re not in this TOGETHER, ‘ _dude_ ’. It’s ME this demon is following, NOT you, so I think I’m in a pretty good fucking position to be the one who chooses how he wants to beat that thing.”

That hurt.

Eddie gestured around him. “So what is this? What are we doing here in this fucking cabin then? I was under the impression the whole POINT of coming here is so you won’t have to deal with this alone. So now i’m just some kind of fucking ACCESSORY while you go all John Mcclane SOLO ACT on this thing? What the fuck Rich?”  
  
They were fully screaming now.  
“I DON’T WANT YOU TO GET HURT EDDIE. How does that make me the BAD GUY!?”  
“Well you should’ve thought of that before dragging a sensitive, WEAK hypochondriac with you, now shouldn’t you!?”  
“WHAT!? You’re putting words in my fucking mouth, man. I’ve never ever thought or... or said that you’re--”

Eddie cut him off. He felt angry and betrayed.  
“How DARE you tell me things like You’re braver when you think and at the same time when the moment of truth comes you push me away!? HOW DARE YOU!”

“EDDIE!”

“And you know what? YOU’RE the one who is being chicken-shit right now. Running away from talking to me, running away from talking to YOUR GODDAMN FRIENDS! What the hell did we fight for, then? What the hell did STAN DIE for?”

He realized it the minute he said it. He pushed too far.  
  
It's how quiet Richie got suddenly that really sent a chill down Eddie's spine.

“WOW. I don’t need to fucking take this or justify myself. Fuck you man. Fuck you.”  
Eddie wanted to say something, but he was too mad to bring himself to say anything. Richie marched into one of the bedrooms and slammed the door behind him.

Eddie stood in the living room, seething with rage. At Richie. At himself.  
He grabbed one of the pillows and flung it across the room. Hitting a framed scenery painting. It dropped to the floor and smashed to pieces.

“GOD DAMNIT.”

~~~~

Night came and Richie was still locked in his room.  
Eddie sat in the armchair with arms crossed, glaring at his door. He tapped his fingers on his biceps impatiently, as if tapping them faster would lure Richie out.  
His expression was severe as an internal battle was whirling in his chest: He was angry at Richie for being so thoughtless, and angrier at himself for being so hard on Richie in return.

_He didn’t do it on purpose._ His softer side pleaded _He’s just scared._  
 _That’s no excuse._ hot headed, manic Eddie spat back. _He should know better_.  
- _You know what that’s like, being scared._  
\- _I got over it._  
- _You were once so scared you almost let him die._  
Eddie shuddered at that. He shook his head violently, squeezing his eyes shut, as if to escape that dreadful memory.

Eddie leaned on the coffee table by the sofa and let his eyes drift away towards the soft curtains framing the cabin window. Outside, a crescent moon smiled down at him, a cheshire cat grin, giggling, mocking him for being so stubborn and judgemental.

The door unlocked and Richie stepped out of the room slowly, rubbing his face, he was changed into a sweatsuit. Had he been angry-sleeping? Lucky bastard.  
They locked eyes and Richie cleared his throat, shoving his hands in his pockets.  
  
“I... um... “  
Eddie cut him “Listen Richie...”  
“No, I... I’m.. I messed up. I’m sorry.”  
Eddie got up, shaking his head “It was me, man. I wasn’t being very reasonable.”  
“No dude you were fine. You were absolutely right, I should’ve talked to you I was just so-”  
“No, - I - should’ve been more understanding You know how I get when-.”  
“You’re understanding, you were kind enough to bring me here and--”  
“--and I just keep pushing you without considering what it does to you-.”  
"Stop fucking cutting me off Eds, i'm trying to--"  
"HEY, you're the one who--"  
“Eddie.”  
“Richie.”  
“Are we fucking fighting about who deserves an apology more?”  
“Looks like it.”  
"That's real dumb, man."  
"So dumb."

They stared at each other and broke out in laughter.  
  
"Jesus christ, Rich."  
“I know."  
"Anyway I... I put that gun in the supply closet” Eddie mumbled. “Just... tell me before you’re planning to use it, ok?”  
Richie nodded enthusiastically “Sure eds. Of course.”  
“Thank you.”

Richie rubbed his neck in awkwardness, further trying to thaw the ice between them.  
“....Hey. You hungry?”  
Eddie was too angry to feel anything else before. But now hunger crept in quickly. “Yeah, starving actually.”  
“Can I... make you something? Anything you feel like. My treat.”  
Eddie smirked “Sure, Rich... I seem to remember you mentioning something about some sort of pasta?”  
Richie grinned, excited “Ah! Si si. Molto Bene! One spaghetti for spagh-eds coming right up!”

~~~~

Richie wasn’t kidding. He really was a great cook. Who knew!?  
Eddie slurped his food with appetite and licked his lips. “Holy shit Rich! This is actually delicious!”  
“O ye of little faith.” Richie clasped his hands into prayer. “Mrs. K, forgive him, for eduardo does not know what he is doing”  
“This is so good i’m not even upset you’re literally making fun of my DEAD mom”  
“If I stopped to think about every dead mom I made fun of I wouldn’t have had a career” “Punching up and staying classy, way to push the envelope there, Richie Tozier”  
“Shut up and eat the rest of your Pasta” he changed his voice to a nazaly, brooklyn jewish aunt “You’re TOO THIN! Eat, eat.”

They laughed, ate and talked all night, raising memories, good and bad, and especially relishing the mildly embarrassing and terribly awkward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't find any images of Richie's 2005 pants so you'll just have to trust me they existed around that time. I know. I was there. I WAS THERE.


	3. Half Moon

_1988_

_-“You know what we should do?? We should egg Mrs. Williamson’s house.”_   
_-”We should SO egg Mrs. Williamson’s house!”_   
_-”It isn’t h-h-halloween, Richie. It’s April fools. And what did Mrs W-w-williamson ever do to you anyway?”_

_Eddie falls silent at this, he was mostly following Richie’s lead._

_“She ONLY failed me at english TWICE?” Richie replies, scandalized, shifting his gaze between Bill and Eddie, as if to remind them where their loyalties lie. “I aced both tests and she STILL gave me an F. That bitch is asking to get her garbage house totalled.”_

_“If you showed up for any of her classes maybe she wouldn’t have flunked you” Stan, who finally arrives at Bill’s front lawn quickly assumed the role responsible adult, as usual. Or as Richie would call it, 'designated party pooper'. “I let you borrow ‘little women’ two weeks ago and you couldn’t even get past the first few pages.”_

_“That’s because I'm only into BIG women. isn’t that Right Eds??” Richie raises his hand for the high five from an obviously non-compliant Eddie. “Is that supposed to be about my mom or YOUR SISTER, asshole?” Eddie shoots quickly, much to Richie’s amusement._

_Richie rolls his eyes back at Stan “Whatever DAD. Where were you anyway!? We’re planning our annual April fools night extravaganza and we’re CRAVING ideas. Put that old man brain of yours to good use for once, Uris!”_   
_“I can’t go this year” Stan ignores Richie’s little jabs and shrugs. “It’s passover eve next week and we’re hosting, so i’m helping my dad with-- “_

_“Bullshit!” Richie jerks up and points at him “J'accuse! Last year you bailed on us with the exact same excuse and I distinctly remember it was the middle of April because Eddie’s mom started wearing those flimsy sundresses and you could almost see her v-” "Oh my god Richie" Eddie reddened. "Shut up!! That’s so not funny.”_

_It was Stan’s turn to roll his eyes. “I’m not lying to you, Richie, i already told you before, jewish holidays start in different dates than the in Gregorian calendar because we have a- “_   
_“Different C-c-calendar” Bill interrupts softly. “He did tell us that, Richie.”_   
_“Well damn. I honestly thought you were shitting me.” Richie scratches his head innocently and continues in a terrible british accent. “Right-o good sir! I do apologize. And so on and so on. So WOTS this with this magical jewish calendar then? Do tell us more, good lad!” Richie sits next to Stan and pats his shoulder, giving him a look that Stan could only assume meant awaiting forgiveness after a twisted, very richie way of apologizing._

_Stan sighs. “Calling it magic is all sorts of offensive and just plain wrong but... whatever. So this is how it works--” Eddie sits down on the lawn, a little embarrassed he immediately took Richie’s side so quickly before Bill corrected them. “The hebrew calendar is lunisolar, yeah? The years are based on solar years, sun cycles. But the months follow lunar cycles. So every jewish month starts with molad which means “birth”, and tracks the moon phases all throughout that month.”_

_He tests Richie, shooting him a glare that says ‘don’t you dare do that snoring bit now’, but Richie_ _seems genuinely intrigued._

_“..New Moon, Crescent moon, first quarter or half moon, waxing gibbous, and so on. Passover is celebrated on the 15th day of the month of Nisan, that’s the middle of the lunar cycle, which is next week. And there actually IS a full moon that night. Passover night is when you celebrate with your family though, and this year it lands right on April 1st. So...sorry guys._

_“OoOoOoh” Richie shakes dramatically “creepy! Is THAT why you’re staying at home that week, Staniel? You’re turning full wolf?” Richie then fake gasped ”Does that mean ALL WEREWOLVES are really JEWISH??”_   
_Stan dead stares at Richie, he can’t say he wasn’t expecting that. “Again, all sorts of wrong and offensive. But I’m glad you’re learning something out of this I guess.”_

_“So every month is like a re-birth?” All three turn their heads towards Eddie, whose sudden involvement in the conversation surprises and delights Stan, like a teacher who discovers a new pupil. “Yeah, yeah Eddie, kind of!” He smiled gently. “An opportunity for a new beginning every month, I suppose!”_

_Eddie ponders at that._

_“Well, I have to head back and help my dad with the passover cleaning. Please don’t do anything too stupid, I’m not in any mood or position to get new friends.”_   
_“Bye Stan. Have f-f-fun.”_   
_Richie and Bill kept brainstorming April fool’s ideas, while Eddie watched Stan leave. He looks up at the still bright sky where a half moon was visible through the blue._

~~~~

Eddie woke up in an unfamiliar place. This is not his room. This is not his house.  
He started panting heavily and reached for his inhaler. His hand halted mid movement. _No. You don’t have that thing anymore. Breathe, Eddie. Through your nose._  
As his breathing settled, his eyes traced around the room.  
 _Focus. Remember the routine._

Bed. Nightstand. Window. Curtains. Closet. Desk. Familiar. Basic That’s right. Now the new stuff.

Oil paintings of rural america, a large, heavy looking mirror where he can see himself, small, nested in the large bed. An old pair of wooden snowshoes resting on thick, wooden panels assembling the walls.

_Right._ He thinks as his mind cleared. He was in the cabin. In _Hope_. It’s been a week since he arrived with Richie to battle some unknown demon they both weren’t sure even exists. Good. Well, bad, actually. But good. Despite that specific teeny tiny bit of distressing information, Eddie had managed to calm down entirely. He’ll deal with the paranormal later. Right now he’s just relieved to be aware of his surroundings and fully awake. He got up to the bathroom to brushed his teeth.

In the short time they’ve been there, they settled into a little routine. Eddie would wake up early for a short jog around the cabin (“ _Waking up before 9am is inhuman Eds. You scare me.”, “Sleeping for 10+ hours is way scarier, Rich”_ ), then he’d prepare a light breakfast, open his laptop and get to work. By the time Richie woke up, lunch would be ready for both to enjoy together. Then they'd split to their bedrooms- Richie writing new comedy material as Eddie continued his finance work. It was pleasant, domestic. Easy to get accustomed to.

The nights we filled with long conversations, bickering and reminiscing. If you asked them, each would claim they’re perfectly fine never dwelling on the past again, but in reality once the dam was broken they couldn’t stop. It gushed out. They talked about everyone and everything, making up for lost time and re-assembling the scattered puzzle of their childhoods, like archeologists picking up mysterious shreds of broken clay to find out its beautiful, original shape.

This morning though, Eddie, fresh and ready to head out, was surprised to find Richie up and drinking coffee in the kitchen at the very unreasonable hour of 7:30 am.  
“Holy shit, it’s the end of times. Richie Tozier is up before noon!”  
Richie stared at Eddie, eye trotted and grumpy. “This is the worst. No one is allowed to be alive around these hours from now on.”  
“Aw, not a morning person are we?”  
Richie sipped his coffee. “More like not an-all-nighter-person. Fuck. this coffee isn’t strong enough. Do we have actual beans I can chew on? Or shoot up my vein?”

Eddie was stretching on the couch and glanced back at Richie with a raised brow “You didn’t sleep at all? Damn Rich. It’s like you’re TRYING to cross off every box in the worst things you could do to your body list.”  
“Lay off, I got a massive writer’s block” Richie whined and crashed his head against the table. “This sucks. I suck. What am I doing even? I should’ve been a dentist like my dad.”  
“You would’ve been a terrible dentist” Eddie picked up a bottle of water from the fridge. “Anyway that stuff happens all the time doesn’t it? Bill has those too.”  
Richie’s head was still squashed against the table. “Bill’s books suck, man.”  
“...You got a point there. But COME ON, now you’re just being mopey.”  
“I like being mopey.”

Eddie placed his hands on his hips, snickering at the pathetic display in front of him. “Hey, why won’t you join me for a run around the woods, actually? It’s nice out and it’ll make you feel better.”  
“I do not understand any of the words you just said. What is a _run_?”  
“Stop being a lazy idiot and just come with me. Who knows, you might like it?”

Richie, in fact, DID NOT like it.

“I HATE YOU.” Richie scurried behind Eddie, breathing heavily, arms flailing, face red and an expression of agony decorating his damp face. “THIS WAS A TERRIBLE IDEA. I’M SWEATING LIKE A HOOKER IN CHURCH.”  
Eddie turned around, jogging in place. “You’re really overreacting! How are you even this sweaty? It’s so cold outside!”  
“FUCK.” the other man was out of breath “Doing anything healthy is WRONG for me, bro. My body literally rejects it. oh my GOD.”  
“Fine, get up, i’ll get you some water.”  
Richie sunk to his knees, “Oh my god I’m dying. This is it. It’s all over. This is how I die. Fuck. FUCK.”

Eddie couldn't help it. He couldn't fucking help it. Richie looked so absolutely ridiculous and miserable, so over-dramatic, sluggish and silly. He just burst into a laughing fit, holding his stomach and completely WAILING. He leaned against a tree just so he could support himself from shaking so hard.

“I'm glad my MISERY is entertaining to you!”

But Eddie couldn't stop. He laughed and laughed. It’s infectious, and Richie found himself laughing breathlessly too, as he sank lower to the ground, hands on his knees, head tilted forward, touching the ground.

Their laughter died out, and after wiping their tears Eddie reached a hand to Richie.  
“Come on, Usain Bolt. Let’s go back home.”  
Richie grabbed his arm and pulled himself upwards. “Did you just call the cabin ‘home’ man??” Eddie grew completely red. “Sh...Shut up...!! hadn't you ever accidentally called hotel-rooms ‘home’ when you went on vacations as a kid, asshole???”  
“No! That’s so damn cute Eds!”  
“Oh fuck off.” Eddie was still blushing. There was just something about Richie calling him cute. He hadn't done that since they were kids. He liked it. 

He supported Richie all the way back to the cabin, both bursting into fits of giggles whenever Richie groaned and cursed Eddie forcing him to work out.

~~~~  
  


Eddie was preparing breakfast while Richie took a long, relaxing shower to, as he described it: _revive my limbs after you nearly murdered me, you witch. “So dramatic”,_ he chuckled to himself.

Richie definitely had a point about cooking for one. Eddie hadn't agreed with the sentiment entirely- he enjoyed cooking and always made sure he had fresh, healthy produce for when he was eating by himself. But cooking for someone else did feel nicer. Especially for Richie. He’s been through some shit lately and deserved a little pampering ....Maybe Eddie just felt guilty for making him jog.

He was flipping an omelette when he heard Richie from down the corridor. “Whoa Eds, that smells great!!”  
“That’s not saying much, you’d love anything fried.” Eddie raised his eyes up ”Do you want any topping on yo--”

Richie was standing in the hallway wearing only a small towel resting on his waist. He wasn’t wearing his glasses and his hair was wet. His torso was glistening with water drops and steam was coming out of the shower door.  
Eddie’s attention drifted between three thoughts.  
A, He had never noticed how wide Richie’s shoulders were before. His arms, his chest, when did he get so big?  
B, It’s embarrassing and confusing how deeply entranced by Richie Eddie is right now.   
C, This awkward silence has been going on for a few seconds too long and he should really open his goddamn mouth and say something before he kills himself.   
Richie spoke first. “Eds? What’s up?”

Eddie was flushed. “...You’re dripping water all over the hardwood floor, that's what, dickwad. Moisture is bad for wood!”  
“Jeez okay so-rry! I’ll go fuck myself I guess.” Richie skipped over to his room, being careful not wake Eddie's wrath again.   
Eddie dropped his head to his hands and groaned.

~~~~

Richie was really digging into the breakfast. Eddie held his tea in both hands, and watched him devour the eggs.  
“Wow Rich, they turned out that good?”  
“They’re ok! I’m just so hungry I would’ve eaten anything.”   
“Gee, thanks.”  
Richie shrugged “Sorry. I didn’t even have one bite during during that fucking all-nighter actually.”  
Richie grabbed the orange juice and drank straight from the box. _Gross_. Good thing Eddie doesn't drink acidic beverages. _Why does Richie have to be so gross_. He thought as he eyed his Adam's apple bobbing in his neck as he drank, some of the juice running down his jaw. Catching himself staring, Eddie looked away and tapped on his cup with his fingernails.

“So.. um, Wanna tell me about your writer’s block?”  
Richie wiped the corner of his mouth. “Yeah? You wanna hear about it?”  
“I don’t have anything better to do now, I'm still waiting on some forms from work.”  
Richie chuckled “A captivated audience, truly. Great. Ok.” he rubbed his palms together. “So as you’ve ungraciously commented in the past, I never wrote my own material for the longest time. I used to, when I started out. But it wasn’t very good. Or as my critics loved saying: ‘lacks honesty.’ Ironic how when someone else started writing for me they didn’t seem to have an issue with my integrity, huh? Anyway, that’s what I’m trying to do. Write honestly, about what I know. And as it turns out- I know absolutely nothing."

“I know as a fact that's not true." Eddie tried. “You’ve seen some shit.”  
“What, like growing up in Derry? I’m not gonna fucking write about that, man.” He took another bite from the omelette, talking with his mouth full. “I don’t wanna depress and/or traumatize my probably-already-suicidal audience.” Eddie didn’t agree, but what did he know about show biz? He just nodded.

Richie continued. “I mean I had some ideas. Like maybe something about growing older. Wanna hear?" 

"If you promise to swallow your food before talking, you absolute ape."  
Richie grinned and cleared his thought, posing, as if he is holding a microphone and talking to a big audience:  
"‘Anyone here enjoys getting old? Yeah, me neither! But at least I always comforted myself with the fact it happens to everyone, right? everyone gets wrinkly and gross, can’t get it up and have terrible, dark wiry forests growing out of their ears. So far so good. But then a few months ago I met my childhood friends, and they all turned out totally HOT!! what the fuck? We’re fourty! How come they look like supermodels out of a “healthy living” magazine while I look like someone left a twinkie in the oven for too long? I've been robbed, people. and I demand my money back.’

What do you think? Is that even something?”

Eddie swallowed hard, did Richie think he was hot? Or did he mean by proxy in association to Ben, Bev and Mike? He shook those thoughts away. It’s just a joke, Eddie. Get over yourself.

Eddie wrinkled his nose. “I mean...”  
“It sucks.”  
“No! It’s not that. It’s just... Why do you have to be so self deprecating, Rich? You do not look like... that thing you described.”  
“Oh.” Richie stammered, visibly self conscious. “I-I mean... Uh... I do? Look like that? I feel that anyway. But-but-but it doesn’t really matter, man! It’s mainly to drive the point in, you know.”  
“I guess. I don’t know much about comedy but I don’t think you should sell yourself short for an easy laugh.”  
“What are you talking about, man?” Richie raised a brow. “‘Don’t know much about comedy’? You’re like the funniest person I know! With or without trying. Mostly without.”  
Eddie frowned “There’s a difference between laughing at you and with you, dick.”  
“Hey, in my book. If you made them laugh that’s enough. But for the record- I’m never laughing AT you, numbnuts. What I mean is you’re just one of those people who are naturally funny. I always try super hard, sweatin’ for it. You do it effortlessly.”

Eddie never gave a shit if anyone ever thought he’s funny or not, but Richie. Hearing that bit of praise just made him warm all over.

“At any rate" Eddie shifted back "It is a good start. writing about stuff from your own life. Without going full ‘here’s the hospital bill for every demon-clown related injury I had to endure’.”

Richie leaned against his palm in deep thought, then turned his gaze to Eddie.  
“I could write about this. About us.”  
Eddie’s heart pounded heavily in his chest. Was he having a panic attack right now?  
“W-What do you mean?”  
“About this cabin, this weird spontaneous vacation. Minus the supernatural elements that prompted our arrival, obviously”  
“...What would you write about?”

Richie snorted. “Probably about how you’ve been folding your underwear the exact same way since you were eight, apparently!”  
Eddie’s face dropped. “Wow. Someone who actually takes care about what they own rather than just throw it on the floor like some caveman. HILARIOUS.”  
Richie was laughing nonetheless.  
“And how you keep tripping over that big ugly decorative pillow in the living room yelling ‘FUCK’ and kicking it HARD like its an enemy!”  
“That’s so not funny, stupid!”  
“Then why are you smiling??”

Riche was right. Eddie WAS smiling. His cheeks almost hurt with it.

“Whatever! I’m not your ghost writer. I’m going to take a leak and then work. On my REAL JOB, that helps people and earns me money.”  
“Keep telling that yourself, you corporate sellout!” Richie fake-shouted as Eddie left the room.

Eddie splashed his face with cold water. He turned off the stream and looked in the mirror. His cheeks were bright red.  
“What’s going on with you Kaspbrak?” He asked his reflection. “Why are you being weird.”

As he stepped out, he noticed Richie was standing outside the door.  
“Hey man,” Richie said, rubbing his neck and smiling awkwardly. “Sorry if I freaked you out just then, I wouldn’t write you into any of my comedy routines. Unless you were cool with it, I mean. You know that yeah?”  
“S.. sure!” Eddie spat. “But I.. wouldn’t mind, either. I guess. I was just... um... surprised. Cause we’ve been here for such a short period of time. Like what is there to write about, even?" He laughed weakly.  
“Right..." Richie seemed strangely disappointed. "Speaking of which- I didn’t get the chance to properly thank you, Eds. I’ve been a little too caught up with my own shit lately... So uh, thanks. For asking me to join. I actually hadn’t had any dreams about... well you know. in a while now, so that’s pretty great. Thank you.”

Eddie blinked at him. “Of course Richie. Anytime. What are friends for?”  
Richie smiled awkwardly, nodding. then spread his arms and hugged Eddie, tightly.   
It was quick and friendly and left Eddie wanting just a little more. “Well okay then! I think I'm gonna take an old person nap and then do the responsible adult thing and head back to writing. Smell ya later Eduardo!”

As the larger man headed to his room. Eddie remained feeling bothered. He walked to his own bedroom and tried to dissect the feeling. He laid on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Sorting and entangling his fuzzy mind. Therapy really did a number on him. In the past he’d shove the uncomfortable mood away and move on. But not now. He wanted to explore it. 

He recognized that feeling deep inside him. Distant and old, but also new, somehow.   
It was emptiness.   
The disappointing void of wanting something and only getting fractions, never satisfied. It’s the main reason he hated loud parties so much- they've always only been an echo of an interaction, a glimpse to the human intimacy he craved. People are all around on the dance floor but you can’t reach out to any of them. Not really, not genuinely. He'd regularly leave those kinds of parties hollow and feeling dark.  
  
...Other reason was the germs. But he doesn't dwell on that much now.

Eddie wrapped his arms around himself, clutching his shoulders, squeezing tightly, as if to recreate the hug Richie had just given him.  
He suddenly knew- he felt like this because he wanted Richie to keep hugging him.   
  
He wanted Richie to go on to kiss him.   
  
He wanted more.

“Oh.”  
  
Eddie breathed, faintly.

He wanted Richie to... he wanted Richie.  
  
 _OH._  
  
Eddie’s eyes widened as everything, everything settled into place and realization struck him. “I want Richie Tozier.”  
  
 _Oh no._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah Richie ain't jewish in this though i'm aware there's a whole reading into the movie that he is. Not that i'd mind having him in my tribe, just decided to go with the book canon where he's methodist or whatever!


	4. Waxing Gibbous

Eddie had crushes before.

Despite forgetting so much: the losers, the clown, Derry, he did remember some teenage bits and pieces that revolved around the opposite sex. Girls with soft hair, gentle smiles, smooth delicate features. He probably crushed on Beverly too for a short while, all of them did, only he could not quite put a name to the fiery curls and confident grin in the depths of his traumatized mind for the longest time.

When he moved out of state and started studying finance he dated Nathalie Dover for 6 months. She was clever, sharp and made a move on Eddie within their first two weeks of college. She was clearly the more experienced, and Eddie was honestly very relieved to let someone else take the lead because he definitely had no clue on matters of the heart.

He felt happy with her. It wasn’t the passionate romance he learned about from movies, that desperate, wild desire he read about in books, but It was comfortable. Pleasant. Eddie couldn’t remember the last time he was truly relaxed, and he had that with Nathalie. He realized, as they grew closer, that he identified with her intensely. Nathalie was gentle and slender, like him (they were mistaken for siblings on more than one occasion). Had overbearing parents she just wanted to flee far, far away from, like him. Felt weak and gentle, intimidated by aggression, loud parties and strangers. Just like him. She even had huge dark, bambi eyes that reflected his face back to him when he gazed into them.

She loved how much he understood her (“ _You get it Eddie. Most men don’t_ ”), and he loved feeling safe and comfortable. He yearned for safe and comfortable. At least he thought he did. 

Eventually they both realized what little passion they shared faded quickly, and their relationship ended on relatively good terms. She fell in love with another (“ _I need excitement, Eddie. I feel stuck._ ”) and Eddie went on to finish a degree and settle deep in another comfortable, benign affair, with the woman who would later become his wife.

He wondered now, as he thought back of dainty shoulders and elegant fingers, had he been attracted to all these feminine features, truly, or saw something of himself in them?

~~~~

“OKAY.” Richie slammed the spoon on the table, after he finished his cereal “I’m officially BORED!”  
Eddie glanced up at him as he chewed on his avocado toast “I know this might be confusing, since I do our dishes, laundry and most of the shopping, but I am, in fact, NOT your mother.”

“Come on Eddieeee” Richie whined. “You’ve been working since we came here! And there’s nothing to do around but hike and it’s so goddamn freezing outside. Let’s do something fun today!”  
“Hey, I happen to _like_ my job. And what about your comedy set?” Eddie inquired as he reached for his coffee “Have you made any progress lately?”

Richie sank to the table. “Noooo I’m melting i’m meltinggg”. It’s a bit Richie would do ever since they were kids, saved for truly disastrous situations, such as too much homework, or an especially boring chore he absolutely did not want to do: the wicked witch of the west dying slowly into a bubbling puddle. Eddie chuckled. “You’re such a child. Your agent is going to kill you.”

“Oh, Steve knew EXACTLY what he was getting into. He brought this one on himself. Come ON Eddie, I’m dying here. There must be something we could do around this place that doesn’t involve work or reminiscing bad memories, i'm dying here buddy.” He pouts and gives Eddie puppydog eyes.  
  
Oh how dare he. Eddie hopes he can’t see how badly that affected him.  
  
“Hmm... “ Eddie pondered as he tapped his finger on his chin. “Have you ever played Rummikub?”  
“...Have I ever what now how now?”

~~~~

“Again!?”  
“HA HA!”  
“What the hell Richie, how!?”  
“I’m the fucking CHAMPION! I rule!”  
“You’ve gotta be cheating. Show me your pockets, are you hiding a joker in there??”  
“You WOUND me spaghetti! I never cheat!”  
“Please. You cheated your way all through 6th grade.”  
“You’re just jealous I'm secretly a Rummikub wiz.”

Richie broke into a little victory dance in his seat as Eddie pouted. It was merely one hour ago that Richie was sulking over Eddie's offer (“ _I can’t believe the only game we have around here is an old people’s version of Poker” “This is nothing like Poker” “GREAT._ ”), and now he’s winning by a landslide.

“That is SO unfair, I played this game every single fucking day with my mom, how are you so good at this!?”  
Richie reclined back on his seat, a smug smile decorating his face. “What can I say, Eduardo. Some of us are just naturals.” his shirt rose up a little as he placed his arms over his head, showing some skin. Eddie didn’t know what he wanted more- For Richie to fall over and bruise his big ass ego, or to climb up the table himself and lick the exposed flesh.

“What even is the deal with this game? I’ve never heard of it in my life!”  
“I don’t know, it’s like Romanian or something?”  
“Aren’t you polish?”  
Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose. “Richie, sometimes I wish I understood how your brain operates. I truly do”

Richie just laughed at this.  
  
“Whatever. I’m the Rummikub king. And my first order of business- Your king craves something sweet. chop chop, Edward. Fetch forth me some cookies.”  
Eddie glared. "Yeah, even if we had cookies, that attitude would only get you rat poison in your tea."   
Richie gawked dramatically. "RUDE. seriously though, do we have anything else? Richard needs snacks to survive."   
"Hmm.. " Eddie scanned the kitchen. "I got bought apples. Pink lady. Want that?"  
Richie frowned in disgust.  
“Jeez, no to apples then. Pears?”  
Richie’s frowned deepened to a sneer.  
“Okayyy, tough fucking crowd.” Eddie paused, considered his next words. “We could... We could go to Albany.”

Richie’s expression sobered. He straightened his chair, serious and quiet, face turned from Eddie. “Eddie...”  
“Just To get some snacks.... We walk in, grab some food, pay and head out. That’s it. It's now daytime, Rich, and you hadn't seen or dreamed about it at all...”  
Richie wouldn’t turn his face back, the light of the room reflecting on his glasses and hiding his eyes from view. But Eddie could sense him wince.  
“I don't wanna leave till we handled it. Or... knew it was gone for good.” Richie whispered.

Sometimes Richie cared so much it made Eddie weak with affection.

“Okay then. I’m going to make some coffee.” Eddie headed to the kitchen “Do you want anything?”  
Richie smiled “Nah, man. Thanks.”  
Eddie fumbled through the cabinet, searching for any kind of sweetener, when a few ingredients caught his eye.

Flour. Baking Soda. Vanilla extract...  
  
“We.. could BAKE some.”  
  
Richie raised an eyebrow “What?”

Eddie turned around with flour in one hand, milk in the other.  
“We could bake cookies. There’s like... everything here. My cousin really filled up the place. What do you think?“  
It worked, Richie was intrigued. “Huh. Okay! Sure. can you bake?”  
“Nope. Can you?”  
“Nope.”

~~~~

The kitchen was powdered with flour, several eggshells covered the floor, and the trashcan revealed evidence of a failed baking attempt- a yellowish, doughy lump covered with chunks of unmixed butter, and a large, angry footprint pressed into the dough.  
Eddie’s hands were deep in a second baking attempt, kneading and blending the sugary dough, while Richie tore small pieces and rolled them into spheres, placing them on a baking sheet.

“Ok.” Richie dusted off his hands “What does it say next, Mary Berry?”  
Eddie took a glimpse at his nylon wrapped smartphone, reading the recipe. “Wrap in parchment paper or plastic, then chill it in the refrigerator for at least an hour before baking.”  
Richie scoffed “Ain’t nobody got time for that. What’s next?”  
“Come on Rich, if we’re gonna do this let’s do it right.”  
“Let’s just eat it raw Eds, that’s a thing kids do these days right? Raw cookie dough?”  
“Kids have been doing it for ages and it has ALWAYS been disgusting and dangerous. Have you ever heard of salmonella??”  
“I hardly know her!”  
“Lame."  
"My cookies, my rules"  
So annoying. Why was he into him, again? "FINE. Only if you take care of the rest of this dough. My arms are killing me.”  
“Yes, sir, Eduardo, sir!”

Eddie sipped the rest of his coffee as he observed Richie working. His sleeves were rolled to his elbows and the veins tensed in his arm with the kneading work. Talking proved an increasingly difficult task right now, but if he knew if he doesn’t, he might do something foolish.

“You know, when I was a kid my Mom wouldn't let me anywhere near the kitchen, maybe only to get light snacks. But the oven was definitely off limits”  
Richie snickered “Oh, I remember.”  
“She couldn’t bake herself, either. So the oven just stood there, completely bare and unused. I asked her permission to let me try once, that time I broke my arm and she wouldn't let me see you guys? I was SO bored. Just one bake. She absolutely lost it. Started babbling about how I could get burnt, cut, blinded, that I wouldn’t even know how to open the oven without getting hurt. By the time she was done I was too nauseated to even THINK about cake for weeks.

Richie started rolling the rest of the dough into cookie shapes “That’s bullshit man. Cake rules. My old man baked a lot and it was awesome. I’m still mad the bastard never taught me. Remember the one he made for your 11th birthday?”  
Eddie did remember. “Oh my god. Yes! It smelled soooo good!! And my mom... My mom wouldn’t let me have ANY of it because it had walnuts in it! Fuck! I was SO disappointed, Rich.”   
“YOU were disappointed?”Richie laughed “I begged my dad to make you that cake for weeks!I nagged and nagged. Damn, I cried like a bitch when I heard it was just tossed away.”  
Eddie was awed. He could just picture little Rich, sobbing, red faced and miserable. “Shit dude, I.... Really? You cried?”  
“Aww don’t give me a hard time Eds, I was a kid! And I was like, obsessed with making you happy.”

This made Eddie’s heart jump. What could he possibly say to that?   
  
Richie glanced over at him for a moment, and cleared his throat. “I..I mean... you know. How I was. Class clown. Just.. wanted to make folks laugh their asses off and shit.”

Eddie felt a quiet awkwardness between them. But before he could think about it too much, Richie turned around grinning, a neat row of soon-to-be-cookies decorated the baking sheet.  
“All done! You wanna do the honors Eds? Just to prove your mother wrong?”  
“Don’t mind if I do.”  
Eddie shoved the tray into the heated oven, and Richie started clapping, putting on his bad british accent “Good show! Brilliant work my good lad. Your mother would be tremendously proud.” Eddie nodded as he watched the cookies through the glass.  
“Of course later we’d have to kick you out of the cabin cause we’d wanna get it on as soon as possible, know what i’m saying?”  
“OH Fuck you, bro.”

~~~~

“Mmmm...” Richie licked his lips “These are the best-worst mediocre cookies I've ever had in my life.”  
“They’re disgusting.”  
“You don’t know what you’re talking about Eds. I’m in heaven. Trash heaven”

Eddie examined the burnt, crumbling cookie in his hand “You’re just high on sugar right now, the moment it drops you’ll realize how truly awful these are.”  
“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. stop being so hard on yourself. WE made this! Our fruits of labour produced FOOD!”  
“Our fruits of labour should be obliterated. We should’ve let the cookie chill in the fridge like the recipe said!”  
Richie let out a giggle “I don’t know if that would save it from overbaking though.”  
“Next time we’re making something simple. Like.. buttered toast”  
“Oooh, Something savory does sound good right about now. What time is it?”  
Eddie raised his wrist. “6 pm.”  
"Hey I know! Let’s watch a movie and heat up some popcorn! Is there a DVD here or something?”  
“Um... “ Eddie got up and walked over to TV stand with the ancient, dusty TV set sitting on top of it “I doubt it.” He opened the drawers. “There’s a VHS in here.”

“VHS?” Richie grinned in amusement and walked over “What happened Eds? Your family couldn’t afford Laser-Disc?”  
“I will not be held responsible for the actions of an extended family I don’t even know that well.”  
“Alrighty then, we shall bask in the glowing light of terrible be kind rewind quality. How many movies have we got?”  
Eddie opened another drawer, which contained two dusty VHS films. “The Thing and My Fair Lady.”

“Height of luxury in this place is.” Richie inspected the contents of the drawer and plucked out the My Fair Lady cassette. “There’s no way in hell I'm watching a horror movie for the rest of my life probably, let alone The motherfucking Thing, so Hepburn in her finest it is!”  
Eddie scrunched his nose. “Nah”  
Richie pretend-cleaned his ear with his finger “Um. I’m sorry. I must’ve heard you wrong. For a moment there I thought you had some sort of a problem with late-golden-era Hollywood classics featuring timeless performances by literal legends.”  
Eddie shrugged “I just don’t like musicals I guess.”  
  
Richie gasped and clutched his chest dramatically. “EDWARD! YOU LIVE IN NEW YORK!”  
“There’s more to New York than just broadway, Richie.”  
“You’re a disgrace to your state. Bloomberg should banish you to Long Island.”  
“He hadn’t been Mayor in years you idiot!”  
“Oh. Back to your terrible opinions.” Richie pointed at him “How can you not like musicals, you actual grinch? They’re condensed pure happiness graced upon humanity despite us being sacks of shits who just fart and jack off all day”  
Eddie Grimaced “First of all- Ew. Secondly- They’re just weird and unrealistic? People don’t burst into song like that. It’s cringey. I don’t get it at all.”  
“That’s the lamest excuse in the book.” Richie concluded “We are watching a musical tonight! This has been vetoed. There’s nothing you can do about it. You're going to get re-educated if it's the last thing I do.”

~~~~

Eddie was definitely being re-educated alright, but not in the way Richie had planned, as the movie-buff saw fit to land all of his My Fair Lady trivia on the poor soul, preventing him from actually enjoying or understanding what's going on in the film.

“You see how crisp the colors look Eds? Listen to that sound quality! That’s ‘cause in ‘94 the movie and went through this massive film restoration. Super expensive stuff. It was completely lost up to this point. Most people didn’t give half a shit about preserving film till like the eighties and something along the lines of 50% of movies made in the past are fucking EXTINCT because of that! Maybe more. Can you imagine? Genius works of art totally lost because no one thought twice. And even if they weren’t destroyed or tossed away they would be all messed with age, celluloid turning brittle and the coloring totally fading and other issues. Oh, shit, hold on, this is a great scene, Eliza is all pissed off at Rex Harrison and it’s this AWESOME revenge song number. Absolutely hilarious. Audrey Hepburn is really singing here by the way! Well, not in all of it, just the beginning, the rest was recorded by someone else. Marni something? Can't remember her name.”  
“Oh my god Rich. How you even know so fucking much about this movie?”  
“Well some of us are into the many uses of neosporin, Eds, while others are more interested in normal people stuff. Hey, are you even watching the movie??”  
“AM I--!! How can anyone concentrate on what’s happening when you’re doing your musical slumdog millionaire routine here!!”

“Shh SHHH shh shh this is another good song shut up and watch!” Eddie grunted heavily and stuffed his face with popcorn.

Richie apparently ran out of ‘imdb cinema secrets’ to share, because he finally quieted down and actually LET Eddie watch the movie. It was entertaining enough. Especially when The Rain in Spain number began. Eddie was familiar with the song and always wondered where it’s from. It was nice putting faces to voices. It was even nicer to watch Richie smile and mouth the lyrics like some over-enthusiastic theater kid. Cute. He was so cute.

His train of thought was rudely interrupted when the video froze.  
  
“Noooo!” Richie whined, marching up to the TV stand and examining the jammed VHS “What’s wrong with it??” Richie tapped on the machine lightly. Then gave it a few firmer whacks.  
Eddie got up. “Well don’t fucking break it! It’s old!”  
Richie jammed his hands into the VHS to try and pry out the cassette, with no luck. “Oh man. Just when we were getting to the good part!”  
“Might as well.” Eddie shrugged ”It’s getting late and there were like, what, 5 more hours to this thing?”  
Richie laughed, surprised by Eddie’s bitchy flare. “You are so mean! How would you feel if i like.. Trashed talk benadryl or whatever??”  
“Gee. No. Take it back. I’m soooo hurt.” Eddie replied in sarcasm.  
“Okay, you’re just being evil because you hadn’t reached the musical SHOWSTOPPER yet.”

“....I assume you’re about the explain what--”

“--The musical SHOWSTOPPER is THE song of the musical. The one fans are waiting for, the song everyone hums after they leave the theater. It’s the point of the musical where everything transcends to one moment of blissful euphoria, peak of pleasure, and everyone watching agrees we’ve just experienced an orgasm of song, dance and feeling.”

Richie finishes with a dramatic pose, as if waiting for applause for this emotional soliloquy.

Eddie’s raised an eyebrow. “Only you can make musical theater sound obscene. Are you expecting applause?”  
Richie bowed “Um, Yes? That would be nice.”  
“Ok, I give up.” Eddie sat down on the couch and crossed his arms on his chest. “Tell me about the My Fair Lady showstopper.”  
Richie grinned. “Why Edward, I thought you’d never ask. This calls for more alcohol though.”

~~~~

A good few beers and tequila shots in, Richie was standing on one of the couches, singing at the top of his lungs, completely off key, while Eddie was seated on the other one, laughing his ass off.  
♫ “I could’ve daaaaaaaaanced all night! I could’ve daaaaaaanced all niiiiight and still have begged for moooooooore” ♪

Eddie wiped tears from his eyes. “Richie, that’s terrible, stop, i’m gonna piss myself!”  
Richie flung his arms to his sides ♫ “I could’ve SPREAD my WINGS and done a thouuuuuusand things.. ♪'' he paused and scratched his head. “uh... what comes next? Ah! ♫ “I’ve never done befoooooore”. ♪

For the next verse he changed his version to a kermit the frog impression.  
♪ “I’ll never knooooow what made it soooooooooo exciting! Why all at once my heart took fliiiiight!” ♫  
Eddie lost it. “What the fuck is Kermit doing there?!”  
Richie jumped off the couch in front of Eddie, nearly tripping over but catching himself just before. “Um, its generhawl, generaaaaahl, general knowledge that Kemit was played by Audrey Hepburn, Eds.” He points up a finger and places it on Eddie’s mouth. “But shhhh let me finish.”

He kept singing, but Eddie was completely distracted by the sensation of Richie’s fingers lingering on his lips. Richie doesn’t notice him blush.

♫ “I only knooooow when he... ♪ Eds. Eddie. Eds.” “What?”  
“You need to get up for this one, you jus’ you jus’ gotta.”  
“W-Why”  
“Just do it!!!”  
He gets up and Richie immediately grabs him by his waist and flings him around the room in an awkward, messy dance. Eddie is not nearly drunk enough to be doing this.  
“♪ Began to daaaaaaaaance with meeee!! ♫”

Despite his face in flames, crimson red with embarrassment, Eddie was truly having fun. Smiling wide, like an idiot, joining the dance.

♫ I could’ve danced danced daaaaaaanced!!!! ♪ ” Richie paused his movements, looked into Eddie’s eyes, and started inching closer towards his face.  
Eddie froze. Richie’s face is close. Too close. His blood which boiled with intensity earlier was now freezing in his veins. Heart pounding so loud he was sure Richie could hear it.

Richie’s face leaned soft against Eddie’s cheek, as he whispered in his ear “This is the best part.” He then pulled away abruptly and raised his arms in a ridiculous Disney princess pose, breathing in loudly, and belting out the worst off-key singing Eddie had ever heard.

“♫ ALL NIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!!!!!! ♪”

As the song ended, Richie sorted his breathing. Then bowed. “And that’s how you do it Eds.” he fell back to the couch, exhausted and tipsy. “I’m so out of shape. Another song?”  
Stunned and panting himself, Eddie tried to gather his wits, shaking his wobbly limbs. _Get a hold of yourself Kaspbrak._ This was.. A lot. “Y-Yeah I don’t think so buddy. you had enough excitement for one night”

“Aw. I can’t... get up though. My knees are gone. Dead. Old. I'm old.”  
Eddie rolled his eyes and offered him a hand to help pry him out of the sofa, and led him to his bedroom.  
Richie kept humming. “I really could, ♫ dance dance dance ♪ all night.. You know.”  
“Sure.”  
“But you stopped... stopped dancing so... “  
“Yeah blame it on me and not on your fucked up knees.”  
Richie chuckled, sleepy. They reached his room and Richie stepped in.  
“You know Spaghetti, she does get a makeover in the movie eventually. but like... She doesn't change really. She’s the same. But better. You know? ...It’s very good. You should watch it sometime.”  
  
Richie closed the door behind him.  
Eddie went on to take a very, very cold shower.

~~~~

Eddie must’ve laid in bed for hours now. He can’t stop running the passing day through his head over and over again.  
“God.” He grumbled “I feel like a goddamn teenager.”  
He thought about Richie butchering My Fair Lady and blushed deeply. It could very well have been him singing that song. Delirious and happy and carefree and very. Very turned on.

The intensity of his feelings was astounding to him. What is this? Eddie had crushes before. But this... his heart is pounding, limbs melting, he sweats, and on top of it all he is manically happy.  
This is idiotic. Is this how it usually feels? Is it what's it all about? Why do people do this, again? absolutely ridiculous.

But here he was. There it is. And he could not sleep. Didn’t want to sleep.

Eddie had crushes before, yes. when it was safe, comfortable. Didn’t challenge him, didn’t claim confrontation with his feelings, didn’t ask him to change and grow.

Richie demanded all of that. No, not demand. Richie would never demand. He offers him all of that. With kindness and care. And a whole lot of annoying bits and jabs. So fucking annoying. 

Eddie thought of Richie’s blue eyes behind thick, dumb frames. Richie’s stupid broad shoulders. Richie’s way too long legs. Richie’s smell. Richie’s arms as he kneads the dough. Richie Whispering in his ear. Richie Richie Richie.  
He found himself caressing his cheek, feeling the outline of his healed scar. He wondered, does Richie notice it when he looks at him? Does he find it revolting? Would he--

His palm on his cheek turned into a fist, Damnit KASPBRAK. Pull yourself together. You’re an adult man, stop being so goddamn self conscious.

But he can’t help it.  
Something about the last week and a half exposed him raw.

His palm softened, and slowly moved down his cheek to his neck; he imagined it was Richie’s hand and shuddered.

Richie is right there in the other room. So close. Eddie paused and stared at the ceiling.  
  
 _♫....I only know when heeeee began to dance with meeeee...♪_

He closed his eyes. Licked his lips, and kept going.  
Thumb brushing his chest, hand spreading wide and then continuing to hover just above his waist. He held that palm down, feeling his ribcage, squeezing as he imagined a larger, stronger hand doing just that.

Would Richie be harsh or gentle? Would he tease him by moving in a slow, agonizing pace, or launch forward aggressively, consumed with lust?

His fingertips fluttered over his torso and kept going down and down, caressing the soft hair leading towards his boxer-briefs as he stopped right at the hipbone. He fumbled with the waistband playfully, before moving his fingers over his briefs, cupping, rubbing the damp stain growing in the fabric with his thumb. Eddie imagined it was Richie torturing him, whispering dirty words in his ear. Loving words.

Impatient, Eddie shoved his palm down his underpants with an ungraceful movement, lowering the briefs to his thighs with his other hand. He tried to hold onto the sensuality of the moment so he could keep visualizing Richie, but too devoured by thirst and want.

“A..ah...” he moaned softly as he caressed his length, dragging his other hand to his face. He brushed his fingers against his lips, biting on the tips lightly. Richie would kiss him during, he thought. Hoped. Would lick his lips, kiss his cheekbone, his nose, his neck. Nibbling, first lightly, then hard. He’d have his glasses on so he could see what everything he does is doing to Eddie. How he’s wrecking him.

Eddie quickened his pace, gliding his hand up and down his cock in steady, circular movements. He didn’t want to go too fast though, he wanted this to last, with the vividness of Richie glowing so sharply in his mind. He could almost smell him as he envisioned his warm tongue running all over his body. Running down the length of his--

“R...Rich..!!” Eddie bit his lower lip and tossed his head back, flustered by the fantasy escaping through his lips. His free hand shot up to his temple, nails grinding his scalp as his brows furrowed, his breathing growing quicker. He was getting close. Not that he was that far to begin with. His increasing moans are trapped, restrained in his throat. How he wishes he could be loud, so that everyone would hear. He pictured himself screaming in delight in Richie’s ear.  
  
 _Faster, Richie._  
 _Harder._  
 _Please. Fuck. Please._

“Mmm.. A...Ahh.. Mmm!! Ahh!”

Eddie’s stomach clenched and his eyes shut tight as he gasped sharply, coming in ribbons on his abdomen. He shook violently from the intensity of his completion. Pleasure washing all over him, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes like a tidal wave. He wanted so desperately to shout Richie’s name.

Little by little he descended back to reality. The vision of Richie next to him faded away. His heavy breathing calmed, returning to normal, his face relaxing.  
He laid there overwhelmed and exhausted for an amount of time he could not track.

When his consciousness was regained, he looked at the mess in his hand with hooded eyes.  
  
Great.  
  
He’s gonna have to shower again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Warning: here be some smut.  
> 2\. This is my favorite episode. I don't know which weird people exist within the venn  
> diagram of loving rummikub, Great British Bake Off and Audrey Hepburn, but whoever they are: I see you!  
> 3\. Eddie's college girlfriend is a friend-insert and I will not apologize.  
> 4\. I miiiiight've borrowed some of Bill Hader's obsession with film and thursted it onto Richie. It makes sense to me that Richie appreciates the arts!


	5. Full Moon

_Richie sits in his armchair and chews on his pen. He has a particular issue with a joke he couldn’t quite finish and has been scrambling his brain, bouncing between ideas for hours. He looks at his chewed pen, amused. His_ _agent always gives him shit for refusing to finally get a laptop and work like a normal human being. “I have 80 year old clients who wouldn’t leave the house without their macbook air or ipads, and here you are living in the eighties, Richie.”. But Richie cherishes his pen and paper method. Feels more natural. Closer. If he is going to write his own material from now on, he wants to do it right, or at least, right for him._

_His phone buzzes. It’s a selfie of Ben & Beverly, sent to the group chat. They are sitting on Ben’s boat, holding tall glasses of champagne and smiling, deliriously happy. Disgusting. What jackasses. Richie loves them both so damn much. _ _He picks up the phone, replies: “You are the ugliest motherfuckers I have ever seen, truly” with a heart emoji, and switches it off._

_It’s been a few weeks since Derry and he promised himself he’ll write at least 5 solid themes for a new, personal comedy set by the end of the month. But he’s been struggling to reach in deep and say what he truly wants to say. What DOES he want to say? He’s not sure yet._   
_Still, progress is progress, and he tries to give himself a break after what he's been through. Worst comes to worst he’ll write something mediocre. He built his entire career on mediocrity, what’s another year?_

_He stretches on his office chair and decides to go for a walk. Yeah, Richie does walks now! Every time he feels like ordering Burger-King or smoke an entire pack of Marlboro lights he gets up and walks instead. He isn't sure he has it in them to make the habit will stick, but it wouldn't hurt trying. It’s night-time anyway and he barely moved all day._

_He grabs his jacket and leaves out the door, not before giving the mailbox a little peek on the way. There’s one single letter that looks handwritten. Odd. He shoves his thick fingers in the box instead of using keys because he’s Richie Tozier and never makes things simpler for himself, and fishes out the letter with his tips._

_He starts walking down the street as he inspects the letter. His heart skips a beat when his eye catches name of the sender. “Patricia Uris? Stan??” His fingers fumble around the envelope and he opens the letter quickly. Intrigued. Nervous. Excited. The path is dimly lit by street lamps, but he can still read it well enough._

_“ Dear Losers, I know what this must seem like, but this isn't a suicide note. You're probably wondering why I did what I did...”_

_“No shit asshole.” Richie says in his mind, but keeps reading. His chest aches with every word and he slows down as he reads. Tears pricking his eyes._

_“... Be who you wanna be. Be proud. And if you find someone worth holding on to, never ever let them go. Follow your own path, wherever that takes you....”_

_By the time he finishes reading he comes to a full stop, and watery eyes turn into full ass sobbing._

_“Got damnit Stanley. How are you still the smartest son of a bitch in our group?” Richie wipes his tears and folds the letter carefully, placing it in his jacket. His walk is going to go a little longer_ _than he planned, he thinks. He needs to digest this. And if he ends up scaring some kids with his relentless crying, well, screw them._

_Be proud..._

_He starts moving again and after a few moments freezes in place. A dreadful series of images penetrate his thoughts like a hot knife. A memory. Something he had forgotten about. Something he very much wanted to keep forgotten._

_“No.”_

_Flashes of recent memories appear before him. Getting caught in the deadlights. Deep darkness. Icy air frost-biting his lungs with each breath. Two glowing red eyes, staring him down, followed by a hideous sound of heavy, deep panting, and a blood curdling scream._

~~~~

Eddie woke up startled by the sounds of yelling. “What the fuck??” he whispered panicked, eyes rapidly drifting around the room, realizing it’s coming from Richie’s door.

“Richie???

He launched out of bed and rushed out, slamming against the walls and knocking over items off shelves and picture frames on his way to Richie’s room.

He crashes the door open. Richie is in bed, yelling and whimpering.  
“Rich, Rich! Hey Rich!!” Eddie shook him aggressively, hovering over him. “You’re having a nightmare, man. Wake up!”  
Richie gasps as if he was drowning, eyes wide and looking disoriented. “E...eds? Fuck.” he was covered in cold sweat and breathing heavily.  
Eddie was grabbing at his shoulders. “You were dreaming man. It’s alright, We’re in the cabin, remember? Everything is fine.”  
Richie was staring at him, terror in his eyes. He blinked and licked his lips.

“Eddie”  
  
“What? What’s wrong?”   
“I... I think it’s coming.”  
He paused. “What, Rich? What is coming?”   
“The monster, man, that demon. Shit.”  
Eddie turned pale “Are you sure? How do you know?”

“Fuck, I.... “ He rubbed his face. “I don't know. I don't fucking know how. I'm just sure of it, Eds. God, I must sound ridiculous. Fuck." Richie buried his face in his hands in exhaustion.

Eddie’s breathing quickened but he immediately shook himself, taking a deep breath. Nipping an anxiety attack from forming in the bud.  
“O... Ok! That’s ok. This is OK! It’s ok.”  
“Real convincing, Eds. Are you having an aneurysm right now?”  
“No! I’m trying to calm down so I can calm you down!”   
“Well it isn’t working!!!”  
“Will you give me a few seconds!?”  
“IM TRYING!”

Eddie raised a finger in front of Richie to shush him, and took a deep breath from his nose.  
“Ok Richie. We don't know that's going to happen for sure. And if it's true It's ok, ‘cause we know when it’s coming now, right? It’s not going to catch us by surprise and eat our goddamn faces off ‘cause we’ll be ready. Yes?”  
Richie nodded. “Yes.”  
Eddie tried. “But... just to make sure, did you see any else in that nightmare though? Any clues? Maybe something about how to beat it?”  
“I don’t remember man. It’s always just... me floating in complete darkness, and that thing running after me. I can’t go back there Eddie. I can’t”  
Richie starts to panic again. Eddie shakes him gently.  
“Richie! You need to chill! Focus, bro. Close your eyes. What was in that nightmare?”

Richie furrowed his brows, in deep thought, trying to remember. He closed his eyes and thought hard. He saw an ocean of pitch black. Nothing there. Never has been, never will be.

“I...”

Suddenly, white flakes. Flakes of snow sauntering downwards in the dark. The image blurs in and clears as if he had just put on glasses. He sees snow. Trees. Nighttime.

“It looks like the woods, the grove outside this cabin." Richie opened his eyes. "Yes. I think that’s what it is. I don’t know exactly where. But it's there. Somewhere in the trees.”  
Eddie sat back on the bed with an exhale. “Ok, that’s something.”

~~~~

It was a bad time to realize they actually have no plan.  
But how were they even going to go about planning something like that when they have zero idea what it is they’re facing? They’ve battled the clown once, learning his moves and knowing his weaknesses before facing him again, and even THAT wasn’t 100% foolproof, not even 50%. so confronting something they know positively nothing about?

All Richie and Eddie could really do is to wing it with whatever weapon they had at their disposal (Not much, A potentially unsafe second hand gun and maybe a rusty old fireplace poker), and whatever happens, they stick together.

“I know you’re worried Rich, but staying together is literally the one good take from Derry. It’d be really dumb to ignore that.”  
“Jeez Eds, I got it, okay! Alright!”  
Eddie stared into his eyes. “Swear it.”  
“I swear on your mother’s negligee.”  
“Really, Rich? NOW?”  
“Coping mechanism.”  
“You can’t keep using that excuse whenever you’re being an asshole. Tell me we’re doing this together, Richie. Jesus you're annoying sometimes!”  
“Eddie.” He assured him. “I promise. Come on, man. I don’t want to do this alone either.”   
“Okay.” Eddie nodded.

It was agreed they would head outside, to the grove, the woods, once the sun sets, but that was a good few hours away, and they ached to distract their minds in any way they could before nightfall, as the day just seemed to stretch on forever. Neither of them could bring themselves to deal with work right then, and weren’t really keen on the idea of sitting all alone in their rooms. On the other hand, they weren’t up to sharing their inner fears and thoughts in some lengthy conversion either.

So they did the grownup alternative for when you’re fidgeting with unspent anxious energy- Cleaning.

They cleaned the cabin together silently, for hours. Dusting, scrubbing, organizing and washing areas that hadn’t been washed in years. This cleansing ritual reminded Eddie of helping bev out with her bloody bathroom in Derry, the same sensation of trying to purify a tainted space. But he didn’t feel like bringing that up. The peace between them was something precious right now.

When they finished around the afternoon they were seated by the fireplace. It was cold and especially snowy out ( _of course it was._ ), and there was something almost holy about the experience of being surrounded by the cleansed atmosphere they’ve created.

Richie was shaking his leg nervously. So Eddie spoke, though what he really wanted to do was to hug and kiss Richie into peace of mind. “When this is over with, maybe I’ll move. Somewhere warmer. Like Mike did. I definitely don’t wanna go back to New York.”

Richie was surprised. “Oh?”

“I’m fucking sick of it, Rich. I spent the last 15 years of my life in that place. It’s not Derry but... Definitely too many memories everywhere. Not even bad ones, just... awfully lackluster. As if I've been asleep this whole time. It’s funny. When you’re young you don’t expect that to happen when you run away to the most glamorous and exciting place on earth. Teenage Eddie would've had a fit.”

Richie snorted. He understood. “I feel that. _Making it_ in LA is like the dream, right? But in reality it’s basically just a bunch of prozac-fed narcissists in a circle jerk hoping no one will find out how depressed they really are. And, well, the occasional award show that makes the traffic even worse. It’s also way too hot in the summer and there’s no good pizza anywhere.”

Eddie glanced over to look at Richie, and back down at his hands. “I’ve... I’ve been to LA once. A few years ago for a conference. It wasn't so bad. I thought it was fun, actually. The weather is usually nice, I like the healthy living. EVERYONE has dogs. I always liked dogs. I could.. See myself living there. A-And.. Well. Well you’re there.”

Richie seemed taken aback.

“I-I mean you know” Eddie continued. “Not to impose on you or anything. I’ll get my own place obviously. Just.. thought it'd be cool. Being closer. Geographically. Makes sense.” He was babbling. Stupid stupid stupid.

“No, Totally, man!” Richie smiled at him. “That would rock. We’d have In-N-Out Burger every week, I'll take you to see all the worst Hollywood attractions. We’d go to Venice beach so we can make fun of rollerbladers. It’d be awesome!” He raised his hand to a high five, and the snorting, smaller man gave in and high fived back. His fingers lingering just a moment too much against Richie's.

The warm, confusing air between them was getting a bit much for Eddie, who felt muggy as it is. “Welp.” He got up and stretched. “I think I’m gonna head for a quick shower. I’m feel disgusting and could use the refreshening.”  
Richie chuckled. “You? If you’re disgusting, what the hell am I?”  
“Hey, you're used to it.” Eddie snickered mischievously, and headed to the bathroom. If he hadn’t known any better, he would’ve thought they were flirting. Sorta.

~~~~

Eddie stepped out to the living room while drying his hair with a towel. Dressed in a clean clothes and fuzzy socks.

“Hey Rich, I thought about it a little more. I...I know it’s kinda crazy but.. Maybe I can visit LA as soon as we’re out of here, just to see what the business is like there. The company I work for has a branch over there and I’ve heard they’re looking for people. What do you think, man?"

Eddie heard no response.

“....Richie?” Richie wasn’t in the living room. “Rich? You in your room?” he scanned the bedrooms, both dark and empty. He paused.

Realization washed over him. “No way.”

He searched around the cabin once more, as if Richie was a misplaced item. “No way. Richie, please tell me you didn’t.” Eddie went through the rooms again, opened the closets, even checked under the bed.

“Richie you didn’t You fucking DIDN’T!” He paced to the front door and opened it, no sign of Richie around the cabin either. Eddie swallowed hard.  
 _The gun._  
“I’ll fucking kill him. I’ll fucking KILL him.” He marched the supply closet.  
  
The gun wasn’t there.  
  
“That asshole. That FUCKING asshole!”

Eddie raged. His blood was boiling. His teeth clenched. His palms were balled into fists so tight his knuckles turned white. He ran to the front door and smashed it open.  
“We had a deal, asshole!!” He yelled outside, running, dragging through the snow. “We said we’ll do this together! YOU PROMISED! How dare you! How fucking dare you!!!” his face was in flames. His chest ached.

Eddie had no shoes on. Had no coat on. No gloves. But he didn’t feel the snow piling up to his knees, the tree branches scratching against his face. not when his body was on fire.

“Richie!” he screamed at the top of his lungs. “RICH! god fucking DAMNIT!”

Eddie refused to stop moving forward. The intensity of his feelings were lit so fierce right now. He KNOWS what would happen once it fades out. At the core of every passionate flame driven by fury and hurt, there’s fear. And he cannot afford being afraid. Not right now.

“Richie!!!”  
  
He looked around, trying to gage where he was. Where could’ve Richie gone to? How long has Richie spent outside? Did he find the creature? Did he kill it? Did it kill-

At that, Eddie’s flames went out and turned to icy panic. There it was, he was afraid. Suddenly noticing how cold it was around him. How he even isn’t entirely sure where he HIMSELF was anymore, he couldn’t see the cabin, he couldn’t see anything but white and trees. He stopped on his tracks to rub his palms against each other and warmed them with his shaky breath, sinking a little into the snow. With another boost he sprinted forwards and gave another scream.

“RICH-- HA!”

Eddie’s hoodie was caught in a tree branch and he fell backwards, into the snow, his head knocked against a tree and his sweatshirt rising up and exposing his back to the freezing cold.

“Fuck. Ow. Fuck.”

He sat up and rubbed his head. “Shit. Shit. Shit.” He felt something warm trickling down his forehead and raised a palm to touch it. When he lowered it to his eye level he saw it’s coated with blood. Calm down Kaspbrak. It’s only a little cut from one of the trees. Not a big deal. Not life threatening. Hypothermia though, that’s life threatening. Also getting mauled by bears. Found by wolves. Attacked by huge black sharp toothed monsters. Richie. Gotta find Richie.

Eddie got up again. Took a deep breath- the cold air hurting his throat and lungs. “RICHIE!”  
It was hoarser this time. But he kept moving.

The wind kept blowing at its regular pace, the cold crisp and sharp and the snow kept falling softly. The trees stood bare and snow piled quietly. None minding the man desperately chasing and aching and wanting.

“Rich...” Eddie clutched his chest. Breathing hurt now. He had to sit down by a tree and rest his head against the tree trunk. He tried to form a survival plan, but all that running and screaming slowed him down, turning him exhausted and sad.

The snow fell softly on his hair, brows, eyelashes. He felt the thin flakes tickling him as his eyes fluttered. Eddie breathed slow, shallow breaths. His eyelids felt heavier and heavier. The air around him was so infuriatingly quiet.

He felt a lump in his throat as his eyes started to sting.  
It wasn’t fair.  
It wasn’t fair that Richie left without him, that he can’t tell him how full his heart has become with every kind of emotion thanks to and because of him, that he lived for 40 years but only felt truly like himself is when Richie is around, that he is alone and lost but all he could think of is how scared out of his mind Richie must be right now. All alone, without him too.  
It wasn’t fair that stupid, fat tears are rolling down his cheeks.

He wanted Richie to come and hold him, and to yell at him for being a massive jackass as he takes him home.

He looked up to the clear, dark navy sky to see the shiny, glowing full moon glaring down at him. “Fucker” he mumbled to himself. Not sure if he means the moon or Richie.  
He lowered his head and gazed forwards.

Then he saw it.

Black. Furry. Huge. Red eyes. Just like Richie said.

It moved forwards towards Eddie, and he couldn’t even whimper because he is so, so cold and tired. Fuck.

He backed further into the tree in a pathetic attempt to move, hide, something. He couldn’t do much but shut his eyes and listen to the giant steps moving closer and closer, crushing the snow. He heard the heavy breathing of the beast. The radiating heat as it got closer.  
Eddie’s breath hitched sharply as he sensed the thing nearing so close he could feel its breath. 

Just then, Eddie heard it falling to the snow with a thud, and silence. Was it... dead?

Eddie opened his eyes hesitantly and they immediately widened. No. The creature is still in front of him. But... smaller somehow. It was knelt down, not dissimilar from a dog that’s been told to heel.

Come to think of it, it looks a lot like a dog. It’s easier to define its features now that it’s close. It’s still big, as big as a bear, as Richie mentioned. But it very much resembles... a wolf. Sharp ears, long nose, and the eyes that previously blazed in bright, menacing red now shined in clear blue, staring up at him.

Eddie raised a brow, and examined the monster-wolf gently, carefully.

He slowly raised a shaky hand towards its face. The wolf lowered its head in response, closed its eyes and shifted its ears back, just like a dog would. Eddie lightly placed his palm on the beast’s warm, soft head. It opened its eyes back, and great gentleness shone through the blue irises. It looked straight at Eddie. Waiting. It seemed sad.

Eddie paused, pondering over this strange encounter and letting a moment linger between him and the wolf. 

_Could it be... ?_

Eddie had a thought. A ridiculous, hilarious thought. A thought he’d brush away with immediately with an awkward huff if he hadn’t been through what he had been through for the past 27 years. He ran everything that has happened through his mind, all of it. Everything Richie had told him, and it made some kind of weird sense. He swears he knows those eyes. Those kind, gentle beautiful blue eyes.

“...Richie?”

The wolf wags its tail and whimpers.  
Eddie can’t help but laugh weakly. This is hilarious. Absolutely ridiculous. Completely bogus. What a joke.

“You fucking idiot.”

The wolf's eyes seemed almost apologetically, it then stepped forward and pushed against Eddie, warming him up.

Eddie grabbed at his fur and raised himself upward, on top of him. Leaning against the soft dark mass, laying on his back and clutching. It is big enough to carry two of Eddie now. So warm. And underneath that fur, though faint, it smells like Richie.

“Take me home.”

~~~~

Eddie sat by the fireplace in a cozy sweatsuit and let his limbs rest. They had been so stiff with cold they felt as if they were melting against the fire.  
His cuts and bruises were treated and wrapped with soft gauze, he held a steaming cup of herbal tea (spiked with brandy he found in one of the cabinets for good measure) and sighed deeply.

The wolf sat next to him, obscenely large now in the tiny looking cabin in comparison, laid down quietly. Head resting on his front legs, his eyes locked on Eddie, ears perked up.

“I’m still mad at you.” Eddie hissed at him. And Richie’s furry head somehow sank even lower, between his paws. Ears brushing back and eyes dropping to the floor in shame.

Eddie felt for him, it was really hard to stay angry for long at something that looked so damn pitiful. He reached a hand to pet his head gently, between the ears. Scratching it a little. Richie stared up at him, still in place.

Eddie recognized the odd reality of his actions and pulled his hand back, shaking his head. “What am I even doing? You're not a fucking pet.” He took a sip from his tea. “It’s easy to forget when you’re staring at me with those stupid puppy-dog eyes. You shouldn't have gone out without me, Rich. You could’ve gotten seriously hurt and I wouldn't know.” Richie looked up at him in a way Eddie could only interpret as ‘I know.’

Eddie paused and shifted his gaze towards the fireplace. “But... thank you. For saving me I mean. It got pretty bad out there.”

The fire cracked and blazed, filling the cabin with its comforting ambience and warmth. An almost tender melody for in the quiet he and Richie shared.

Eddie leaned forward and rested his arms and head on his knees, looking back at Richie. Such a funny thing. “God, this is weird. Though it is nice to see you shutting up for once.” Richie growled, but also wagged his tail.

Eddie smiled.

“This would be funny, if it weren't so dumb. Us, waiting weeks for a terrible creature, some beastly bogeyman.” He started laughing “We fucking bought a gun. Us. Two Derry dorks who wouldn’t even know how to operate one let alone use one to kill a goddamn giant demon monster with. Bowers must be pissing himself in his grave.” He was fully laughing now, Richie still in his place, apprehensive, but wagging his tail faster.

“And here you are, Richie, instead.” Eddie’s face softens. “Not a monster, not a demon. Just you.”

Eddie wants to say more. He feel nice and warm and his eyelids are heavy and he doesn’t want to stop talking. Maybe it's the Brandy. He’s definitely going to regret this when Richie is his normal looking self in the morning.

“But it’s always been like this with you, hasn’t it Rich?” he continues, softly “You take care of us, you make us laugh, you help us feel strong and brave when we’re at our most weak and frightened. And then you go up on stage and talk about how pathetic and dreadful you are. Why do you do that?”

Why was Eddie saying ‘us’ when he meant ‘me’?

“You’re not. Pathetic, or dreadful. How can you be? You’re Richie. An annoying, rash idiot, yes. But really, really freaking great.”

He looked at Eddie with those blue, blue eyes. They appeared glossy. 

_Richie waves goodbye as he watches Eddie walk down the subway station. His heart flutters and he clenches his chest. He sighs deeply and lights a joint, heading into washington square park. He puffs out a cloud of smoke as he sits on the only bench that isn’t occupied by a sleeping homeless man, and raises his eyes. He lets out a sigh again. “Eddie...”. He wants to hide in peaceful, comforting darkness, but the moon is full and bright and teasing him, knowing his secret thoughts. “Fuck. i'm in way too deep” he mumbles to himself. Then he shivers suddenly. It’s cold. He turns his head forward and spots two red eyes in the distance. His limbs start hurting terribly and it all happens way too fast. The next thing he sees is the homeless man staring at him with a terrible, terrified expression, screaming his lungs out._

“Richie. Way-smarter-and-capable-than-he’ll-ever-admit-he-is Richie, Absolute dickhead whose sole purpose in life is to get me as pissed off as possible and laugh the hardest I ever have. Complete madman who travels 3000 miles without calling first. My best friend, my.. favorite person. The most ridiculously, chaotically selfless idiot I know.”

_Richie is walking up the hiking trail by his apartment in LA. Texting with Eddie. Eddie sent him a photo from physiotherapy, arm and neck bandaged. He’s holding up a stress ball with his wounded arm, and posing a douchey, backwards peace sign with the other. Along with it the text “I lived, bitch.”. Richie laughs hard. He still feels terrible for being the one responsible for Eddie’s injury but the shorter man seems to be coping well. Richie traces his finger along the features in the picture and smiles. He holds the phone to his heart and looks at the big, round, pale moon in front of him on the trail, rising with every step he takes. Then he stops with a jolt. Cold. Red eyes. Again. His phone drops to the ground, and the world shifts around him as he hears a howl that sounds like it's coming from his own throat._

“And I-- “

_Richie is in the deadlights. Dark nothingness is wrapped all around him. He is cold. He is lost. He is so so alone. All that exists is yearning in his heart for something. Someone. Please. Please someone. Don’t leave me. Don’t forget me. I don’t want to be alone._   
_Red eyes appear before him, and he sees himself. Morphing, changing, becoming something monstrous and terrible._ _He screams with agony and terror, as the monster in mirror front of him is screaming with him. The mirror shatters into pieces and t_ _he next thing he sees is Eddie over him assuring him, smiling at him, as if he heard his desperate pleads and came._

“And I love that. All of that. All of... you, Richie. This month... everything. You look at me and look at me and I just sit there, wondering how the hell can’t you see the kind of wonderful you truly are when fucking... adoration is pouring out of my goddamn eyes.”

Richie is seated up now, staring at Eddie, unmoving, stiff.

Eddie continued “I've been so... busy, eager to change as fast as possible, be like bev and bill and ben and mike, content and happy with everything behind them, so much that I’ve lost complete track of what is it I want. Who is it I want to be? Who is it I already am. I was so worried, distracted and so, so damn confused. But... Well thanks to you...”

He looks at Richie.  
  
“I’m not confused anymore.”

Richie barely moved. Speechless. Or whatever the wolf equivalent of speechless is, Eddie wasn’t sure. He is too emotional and very, very tired. Too tired to try to interpret Wolf-Richie’s expression right now. Eddie yawned deeply and rubbed his eyelids.

“...Sorry. fuck. You’re just... way easier to talk to like this. Maybe you’ll forget this in the morning if i’m lucky.”

They were both quiet.  
  
“Anyway, it’s getting late. Hell, it was late to begin with. I think I'll just...I’ll just.... “

Eddie leaned back on the carpeted floor, resting his head against the large, decorative throw pillow, eyes shifting to Richie before closing them and dozing off.  
  
“My back is going to kill me in the morning.”

  
  
~~~~

Eddie woke up. The fireplace had died out and the fresh rays of sunlight peeked through the window. He yawned and inspected his surroundings.

Livingroom. Sofa. Windows. Television set. Curtains. His feet. His fingers. Richie’s soft, big, human hand resting on his belly. Richie’s soft big human body behind him. Richie’s soft, human arm wrapped around his shoulders. Eddie sighed, content, heart full. As he looked around him, he noticed a piece of paper and pen resting in front of him on the floor. He picked it up with his free hand and raised it to his face.

It read: “Me too.”

~~~~

Eddie lazily opened his eyes. He must’ve fallen asleep again after seeing Richie’s note. This time he doesn’t inspect the surrounding of the cabins, as he is squeezed against a very awake Richie, his head resting on the bigger man’s wide, sweatshirt clad chest, Richie’s arms wrapped around him.

“Eddie..” Richie said softly, revering.  
“You’re crushing me, you enormous fucking sasquatch.”  
Richie giggled and eased up his grip a little, still pressing Eddie to him. “Sorry. You’re very cute when you sleep.”  
“What time is it?” Eddie mumbled against his chest.  
“Mmmm... “ Richie rested his head on Eddie’s “10am? 2pm? I have no idea. I don’t really care.”   
Eddie didn’t care either.  
“Honestly, I’m surprised you managed to sleep this long, I’m pretty sure I had a raging boner poking against you all morning”  
Eddie blushed deeply and rubbed his eyes. “Oh my god Richie.”  
“Seriously, it was massive. You move a LOT in your sleep.”  
“I liked you better when you couldn’t talk.”

Richie laughed heartily at that. That’s right. That... happened.  
“So this is me now, huh.” Richie was surprisingly collected, accepting. “Talk about mid life crisis.”  
"As if that idiotic red mustang you came to Derry with wasn't enough"  
Richie giggled at the jab "You dick. That was obviously my version of revenge-body. wanted to show everyone over there what a cool Hollywood asshole I turned out to be"   
Eddie snorted softly, and looked up at him, concerned “Are... you okay, though?”  
Richie smiled down and nodded. “Honestly i’m a little... relieved? It’s kind of like... being given a name to the thing that’s been bugging you for ages, know what I mean? Or.... Okay, you know how some nights are completely covered with clouds and you see this fuzzy white blob shining through? And you know it’s the moon, but it still gives you the creeps cause it looks like something out of a horror film? But then the clouds part and you can see it clearly for what it is. And you’re thinking Oh, right! There you are! Just this pretty celestial body people write songs about. So... kinda like that. Still fucking weird though."

Eddie nodded.

"Are... YOU ok with it though?”

Eddie smirked at him. "Don't be a fucking idiot, Richie."

Richie brought his palms to cup Eddie’s cheeks. “Eddie.”   
“Yeah?” Eddie breathed, light headed again.  
“Thank you.”  
“What for?”  
“For not freaking out about this?? For staying with me? For all of this. For taking care of me these two weeks. For... what you said last night.”  
Eddie’s blinked, eyes hooded. He never thought of himself as the caring type. He was so used to be taken care _of_. It sounded foreign to his ears, but he liked it.

Richie leaned forward, closing his eyes and pressing his lips against Eddie’s.

People exaggerate the unpleasantness of morning breath. Eddie thought, surprising himself. It truly isn’t that bad. Then again, it could very well be that his infatuation with Richie and the heat of the moment simply made Richie’s mouth taste so sweet to him. 

The kiss was chaste. Sweet. And still felt to Eddie like the most erotic thing he has even done in his life.  
They parted after a few seconds, and Richie beamed.

“I have the biggest, fattest crush on you, Eddie Kaspbrak.”

Eddie was too overwhelmed with feeling, so he just let his body talk and crashed his lips against Richie's again, this time hungry and searching, deepening. He opened his mouth, feeling Richie’s soft tongue brushing against his. It was messy and needy and passionate and everything Eddie had wanted. Richie’s warm, big hands roamed his hair, face, body. Eddie just succumbed to the sensation of being kissed, fondled, held.

“God.” Richie held his face. “Eddie.”  
“I thought about this.” Eddie huffed between kisses and heavy breathing. “You, kissing me, just like this.”  
“Fuck.” Richie gasped and kissed Eddie's cheek, kissed his scar “Yeah?  
“...Yeah.”  
“Tell me.”  
“W- What?”  
Richie kissed his chin, his neck. “What you thought about. Tell me more.”

Under normal circumstances, Eddie would flee away with sheer embarrassment. The thought of sharing his deepest fantasies, saying them out loud was mortifying.  
But these were no normal circumstances.

“I... You kissed... you kissed my neck”  
“I’m already doing that.” He bit his neck lightly, nibbling. “What else?”  
“You.. Ahh.. you trailed kisses down my body”  
Richie snaked his hands under Eddie’s shirt, removing it. He licked his healed collar bone, running his lips down his sternum, kissing down his chest.  
  
“Yeah like that.” Eddie breathed  
“Mmm.. Then what?”  
“You.. ran your hand on my waist. And... kissed my stomach.”

Richie moved to caress his torso. His hands were so big on Eddie's slender waist. He placed little butterfly kisses on his abs, Eddie clenched his abdomen, reacting to the light subtlety of the touch.

“Like this?”  
“A... Aha.”  
“And then?”  
“Um” Eddie bit his lower tip. “You... you... “  
  
Richie ran his finger-tips on his lower belly, raising the sweatpants band lightly with his finger.

“Did I... do this?”

Eddie closed his eyes and nodded frantically. He cannot believe this is happening, he is afraid to move in case it fades away, but his body shakes nevertheless. He doesn't remember the last time he was so hard, too lost to feel self conscious about how intensely his body is reacting.

Richie hooked his fingers on Eddie’s sweatpants, grabbing his boxer-briefs with them, and slowly peeled them downwards. Despite Richie’s apparent confidence, Eddie can feel his hands shaking, and knowing Richie is just as affected as he is makes him even harder.

Eddie’s cock sprang out of its restraints and they both moaned.  
  
Richie gulped audibly and dropped his head to Eddie’s thigh, consumed with lust, like Eddie hoped he’d be. “God. E...Eds... C-Can I.. “  
“Yes, Richie. Please” Eddie whined in such needy desperation he shocked himself. He would be embarrassed if it wasn’t for how distracting Richie’s warm breath was, inches from where he wanted him most.

Richie licked his lips and dived in, running his tongue on Eddie’s length from base to tip. “A-Ahh..!!” Eddie’s brows furrowed as a high pitched moan escaped his mouth. He can be as loud as he wanted now.  
Richie continued to lick, nuzzle and nip, one hand holding the base of his cock as the other steadying Eddie’s abdomen. Eddie was already in heaven, but he completely saw stars when Richie kissed against his tip, then opened his mouth to swallow him whole.

“Fuck. Rich. Oh my god.” His hands grabbed onto Richie’s hair and gently scraped his scalp, pulling his curls. Richie moaned in response, and the vibrations shook Eddie even more.  
Richie’s head bobbed up and down, and once Eddie lowered his eyes and saw the man’s hollowed cheeks and reddening shiny lips wrapped around him, he was sure he was about to die right there and then.

Eddie arched with pleasure as he felt closer and closer.  
“Ah.. Ahh! Richie.. Don’t... Don’t fucking stop!!... O-Oh my god.”  
He is so fucking close. Richie dived even deeper, Eddie feeling the back of his throat. He felt wild. His vision turned white. It was so, so much better than anything he imagined.

“Ahh.. I’m... I’m about to...!!”  
Richie brought his other hand to cup Eddie’s balls and squeezed lightly, and at that Eddie was lost. He cried out loudly as he erupted in Richie’s throat, shuddering, feeling as if he exploded into nothing.

It’d be so worth it if he did.

Eddie landed with a thud on the floor, sweaty and out of breath. Completely spent.  
Richie climbed on top of him as he wiped his mouth, his lips swollen, eyes widened, just like Eddie’s.

“W.. What... the fuck, man.” Eddie breathed and raised his palms up to Richie’s face, caressing his cheeks with his thumbs. “What was that.”  
Richie’s smile was lopsided, dazed as he studied Eddie’s face. “A thank you for letting me stay at your cabin?”  
Eddie laughed breathlessly “This shitty cabin is hardly worth that much.”  
  
Richie nuzzled at him.  
Eddie clutched his shoulder, stopping him. “Wait... Do you...? “ his eyes drifting down to Richie’s crotch and back at him.  
“Nah” Richie shook his head. “It... kinda.. Already gotten taken care of.”  
Eddie’s eyes widened “What? When? Just now??”  
“WELL I MEAN... what with all your hair grabbing and moaning and being this sexy...” Richie blushed.  
Eddie grinned at him. “That’s pretty hot.”  
“I’ll say. Damn Eds. You’re like a goddamn dream” He laid next to Eddie. “Was it... like you imagined?”  
“You had your glasses on in my fantasy.”  
“Kinky.” he turned around to cuddle Eddie.  
Eddie raised a brow and giggled. “Seriously? I didn’t peg you for a cuddler.”  
“Mmm. I didn’t used to be, to be honest” Richie mumbled. “Not that I have much experience, mind you. But I guess... some people change.”  
“Yeah.” Eddie ran his fingers through Richie’s hair, feeling serene. He glanced over to the window, and saw the sun shining through the parted clouds. “That’s true.”

"Aw, man!" Richie said after a few minutes, disappointed.  
"What is it?"  
“When I went out to the woods I wore the kickass holographic pants you bought me at woodstock and now they're gone! lying there somewhere in the snow!"  
Eddie snorted "You Jackass. Good fucking riddance."

They would’ve laid basking in each other’s warmth for hours, if Eddie hadn’t convinced the larger man he absolutely needs to shower and change asap. But that’s fine, they can do that later. They were in no hurry to go anywhere. They have all the time in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Here be even even more smut.  
> 2\. Also angst. Sorry.  
> 3\. AND FLUFF!  
> 4\. Wolf's outta the bag! Surprise! It's your favorite trope!  
> 5\. Eddie petting wolf-Richie's enormous head and then riding together for safety like some badass Mononoke-Hime was the first image in my mind that prompted this fic. Thanks brain!


	6. Epilogue

~ Three months later ~

Eddie was working on his laptop when he heard the jingling of keys, and the door opening. “How was the pitch meeting?” He asked, eyes still glued to the screen.  
Richie slided their LA apartment with groceries. “Good, actually! Steve digs the concept and the Netflix exec seemed to be into the set too. We’re talking about an hour long standup special but... I’m not holding my breath, the guy was a little weird about presenting it to the higher ups. Might get an offer from HBO too though!”   
“That sounds promising” Eddie said as Richie leaned over to kiss his head. ”You’re not going with that terrible title though, are you?”  
“Excuse me!” Richie ranted. “STEVE happens to think ‘Out and About’ is a FANTASTIC title for a coming out comedy special”  
“I'm definitely breaking up with you if that’s what you’ll call it. You can go be with Steve”  
“Nah, he's not my type. Not mean enough.” Richie hugged Eddie’s shoulder and glared at the laptop screen. “Are you almost done? I’m hungry!”  
“It's only 5pm, how are you already this hungry?” Eddie closes the screen, and turns around to Richie. “You wanna go out tonight? There’s a new dim sum place opening on sunset and I really feel like chinese.”

Richie smiled awkwardly “Um.. Eddie it’s... the 15th...?”  
“Oh!” Eddie blinked at him. “It’s the middle of the month already?? I totally forgot. Sorry.”

Richie picked up the groceries and started setting them in the kitchen. “I actually thought we could cook something tonight.” He popped a pack of noodles and szechuan sauce out of one of the bags. “I remembered you talking about craving chinese food like, all fucking week, so...”  
“Yet you CAN’T ever seem to remember to clear the fucking dishwasher.”

Richie’s head tilted backwards in despair, expression agonized “It was ONE TIME! Will you let it go already!”  
“It was absolutely not only one time, and I am definitely not letting it go”

“Tell you what, you absolute gremlin.” he hopped over and leaned close to Eddie’s face. “I’ll make an early dinner tonight, clear the dishes, and then all you’ll have to do is watch Funny Face with me and scratch that spot I like behind my ears. You can even brush my fur if you want. Deal?”

Eddie smirked up at him. He still doesn’t like musicals, but he likes watching them with Richie. “Deal.” They kissed. Richie walked back to the kitchen.

Eddie sat in his favorite armchair, the first piece of furniture he picked himself when they moved into this place. He stared out the window and gazed up at the clear sky. It’ll be night soon, and with it a Full Moon. It’s a routine they’ve already gotten used to and embraced. Much like the early years of their lives, it's a fact. A reality that is better being part of you, rather than run away from, ignore. They can do it now, they can do it all. They are both strong, and stronger together. Eddie thought of how much he has changed, how much he still has to change, and relishes on the feeling. He has all the time in the world. He has Richie.

He thought of the many full moons they’re going to share together, and smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Eddie ends up loving Funny Face BTW.  
> 2\. They def have weird all-night trips every full moon to go play fetch on the beach.   
> 3\. Hooray! Thank you for reading!


End file.
